Captive
by Music Muse
Summary: In the summer before Harry's seventh year, a wrong turn leads him to discover what the Ministry is hiding in their lowest levels. HD slash AU for HBP
1. Chapter 1

Captive

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the other characters in the book are in no way in my possession. They are borrowed to bend to my will, but they really belong to J.K. Rowling. It's a shame. In the first chapter, references are made to Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. Once again, does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I actually wrote a new story and am not dead, despite disappearing for a few, or ten, months. I've been writing Seer's Prophecies, but am thinking of revamping it because my characters are being disobedient. I still won't be the best updater for this one, but we can see how it goes. It won't be as massive as SP is supposed to be so hopefully I can actually keep the end in sight before I let my plot run wild. This story follows books 1-5, but completely ignores any events in the sixth book.

Chapter One

Harry Potter stood a few steps back from his two best friends as they happily waved good-bye to their parents. With two quick flickers of fire and two quiet pops, the adults had finally left the hearth of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place leaving the three nearly-seventh years with the summer spanning out before them.

"Finally!" Ron declared as he whirled around. "If I have to smile a bit more, I'll be like that permanently." He threw himself onto the vacated couch that sat across from the fire and reclined with all the ease of a young man with the world seemingly at his fingertips. Hermione looked relieved as well and excused herself to finish unpacking what she had brought with her for the summer. With a raised eyebrow, Ron darted after his girlfriend and, with the click of the door lock, Harry knew he wouldn't be seeing the two of them for a while.

Ron had been right about one thing; it was great to have the entire house for themselves. After Sirius had died during Harry's fifth year, the Order's headquarters was breached and then moved to a secret location somewhere in muggle London. It was just as well, he thought, because Harry and Remus could barely stand to set foot in the house again. Tonks was even more of a klutz in the manor and was an emotional wreck as well. The second time she broke a plate, she burst into tears and was inconsolable for days. His godfather had touched them all in the short years he had been back with them and none more than Harry.

After Sirius' death, he slowly drew in on himself. It wasn't a conscious effort but it seemed practically irreversible despite Ron and Hermione's attempts. Even Malfoy had nearly given up trying to get a rise out of Harry as he ghosted through the halls as if he was only half there. Seamus and Dean had stopped approaching him, Ginny had stopped fawning over him and a few of his Quidditch teammates had stopped asking him to attend practice. He would dutifully attend their games, mount his broom, catch the snitch and then dismount and disappear while the festivities continued in the Common Room.

Eventually he stopped speaking for three months and could be found only in the library pouring over defense material until the early morning. Pince didn't have the heart to kick him out and left a few torches burning before she left at night. Snape had given him permission to use the Restricted Section, much to the Ron and Hermione's disbelief, and once he scoured the defense section, he slowly waded into the Dark Art material. Harry sometimes wondered how long it would have gone on; Hermione's desperate tears hadn't stopped him, Ron's punch at an unresisting body didn't do it, and Dumbledore's downcast eyes especially couldn't pull him out of his mission. Oddly enough, it was Draco Malfoy.

He never would know exactly what it was that brought the Slytherin out to the library that night. It could have been that he didn't want Harry to take over as the resident Dark Art expert, or that he was simply bored, although Harry suspected the reason was that he wanted the attention that he normally gained during their public squabbles. Either way, it was something that brought him to that library and pushed aside the thick tomb that Harry had been intently gazing at. He had looked up at the Slytherin who held a scowl firmly in place and twirled his wands testily between his fingers.

"Really Potter," He had drawled, "I thought you would have realized your place wasn't with the Dark Arts. I mean, you do spend your time with that mudblood." He paused as if waiting for a reaction and then frowned again when he was met with a blank stare. "And let's not forget the Weasel, who only got in so that the professors could teach them a good contraceptive charm." He waited again and grimaced when the only move Harry made was to pick up his book and flip back to the correct page. "Well I can see Potter that my eloquent speech and big words have befuddled your already damaged mind." Malfoy's eyes flicked to the scar quickly before continuing to sneer. "I suppose I'll have to get your attention in a way that's crude enough that even Weasley would understand." Before Harry could turn his eyes upward, Malfoy had punched him.

It hadn't really hurt; Malfoy wasn't that large of a person, but it had stunned him enough so that he fell off his chair and knocked his glasses askew. He calmly stood up and closed his book and looked at Malfoy expectantly. They sized each other up for a few seconds and Harry braced himself for a punch that never came. Instead he was hit by curse after curse of Dark magic until blood was pouring out of his nose and he was struggling to stand in his own vomit. His mouth felt raw and even if he would speak, he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

Finally, after half an hour, Malfoy fell onto his vacated chair and wiped a lock of hair that was plastered to his forehead. Dark magic took a lot out of a wizard and all the curses he had used were high level. He turned his gray eyes to regard Harry's whose were fluttering. The room was spinning for him and it wasn't until Harry's breathing was under control and the four images of Malfoy had combined into one that the other boy began to speak.

"That was Dark Magic, Potter. It's not that Gryffindor nonsense that you think you know. How does it feel to have had your fingernails ripped out and then re-grown? Is it painful? Do you want to die? How does it feel to have your stomach lining bleeding, to throw up and roll around in your own bile? That is what Dark magic is." He sunk to the ground and crawled closer until he could haul Harry up by his robes. "What do you think you're learning? Could you have enough hate to destroy pieces of life? Because that is what Dark magic is. I really thought you knew your place." He began to stand up when Harry had gripped him by the arm and pulled him down.

"Where is my place?" He asked bitterly. "What can the great Draco Malfoy tell me about my place in the world?"

The Slytherin almost looked shocked at the sound of his voice but answered his question. "Your place is with the Light, with the Gryffindors, with Dumbledore and between your friends. Learn it." He hissed.

"You-You think this is a game?" Harry laughed before he lost his grip and fell to the ground, coughing up blood as he braced his body with his hands. Sweat dripped down his face and mingled with the faint coppery taste that lingered in his mouth.

"Do you? People die Potter; we're in a war. You don't get a time out because you're the Boy-Who-Lived. Your life is what's happening now and acting like it doesn't exist, like your friends don't exist, like Hogwarts doesn't exist is going to change the fact that Black died. Deal with it."

Harry climbed to his knees and leaned against the stack behind him. "Learn it, deal with it. What else do you fucking want me to do? What else can I do for the world, for Hogwarts, for my friends? I can't do anymore. I can't be that hero because he doesn't exist." He scrambled for the words that he spat out almost desperately at Malfoy. He didn't wonder at the time why he had chosen to share his inadequacies with his rival, but a few days later it occurred to him that he could speak of them because Malfoy already knew. He saw the flaws and the weakness, the humanity and the sinister. "I am only a reflection of what the world wants to see. I'm not really there." He looked down in shame as he admitted his lingering thought of his facade within the wizarding world.

The laugh that reached his ears sounded harsh and dark; it was almost like the curses had manifested themselves in Malfoy's voice. "Poor Potter, can't get anyone to see him for anything other that the Golden Boy. What a shame. You're pathetic if you think that you get to sulk around because the world doesn't see the 'true you.' In the end, you are the tool that shapes the public because you stand for what they see. When they see you depressed they think the world is ending and when you're actually acting human, the press is convinced you're pushing Voldemort back. Any other shit you want to feed me about how unfair your life is?" He leaned against the shelf next to him before slowly sinking down in exhaustion. "You don't know what unfair is." He whispered, inaudible by Harry.

Harry looked forward as the first beams of light began to break over the horizon. "Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be hoping that I off myself and that the public dissolves into chaos?" He turned his stare back to Malfoy as he efficiently cleaned up the mess they had made; a table was repaired from the splinters it had been in, pages reattached themselves, chairs were righted and fixed to have four legs again, and the mess he had laid in on the floor was scrubbed out of the carpet.

Malfoy stretched and walked towards the heavy doors that remained firmly closed until Pince would come in around five and force Harry to sleep for at least two hours if he remained. "Because, Potter, I know my place and I had to remind you of yours. A balance might be thrown out of control and who knows, I might have ended up good." He shuddered and fixed his smirk firmly into place before preparing to leave.

"Wait!" Harry called out and was relieved when a blond head came back. "You're a fool." He muttered softly, but the Slytherin heard him.

"How so?" He asked with eyes narrowed.

"The balance doesn't matter, not really. Don't you know that every time an evil is defeated, another comes up to take its place? There is no balance, just some power struggle and the person on top can always change. That's why it doesn't matter what happens to me. There's another Golden Boy just waiting for me to fall."

"I'm sure the wizarding world will really applaud your demise when Neville Longbottom takes over to save us all, taking out one function cauldron at a time." Harry held back a snort and slowly made his way to the hallway. By then, Draco had disappeared.

He had skipped the whole day of classes and submerged himself in his bed until three months of exhaustion had finally been overcome by sleep. He healed himself with the most powerful healing charms he knew for the general body and by dinner he looked more alive that he had the whole year. Dobby had snuck some food up to him while he was in the bathroom and he picked at it for a moment before he cleaned his sheets in his bed and climbed back in with his photo album in hand.

He flipped to the page of Sirius at his parents' wedding and watched as a tear slowly slid off his cheek and onto the tiny picture. Harry quickly wiped it away and gave a short laugh as the young Sirius attempted to clean the tear off as well with the handkerchief he had pulled out of his breast pocket. The laugh that escaped his throat quickly turned into sobs as he hugged the book tighter to his chest. For the first time he allowed himself to feel the pain, the guilt, the emptiness and the overwhelming sadness for his godfather, his classmates, his parents and himself. He cried for the childhood that was empty of all things that there should be: love, security, happiness, contentment. He cried for the life that never was, his with Sirius' and Sirius' own that was taken away too early. When he had finished, he looked around at his empty room and realized everyone was still at dinner. The food Dobby had sent up was replaced with something warmer and for the first time in months, he felt his appetite return to him.

By the time Ron and the rest of his dorm mates returned, the food was cleared away and he was asleep in bed. Later, Ron would remark that it was the most peacefully he had seen him that year.

At breakfast the next morning, he still hadn't spoken to either of his friends but only to hold the companionable silence that now filled the void where meaningless conversation had taken place. They entered the hall at a normal pace, but instead of going to the table like Ron and Hermione, he glanced over to see Malfoy looking at him with a raised eyebrow. While he should have been angry that his enemy had tortured him for the half hour the morning before, he only felt a sense of gratitude. Harry had the suspicion that both he and Malfoy knew that the end result of his downward spiral would have been worse then that period of physical discomfort. He gave a quiet nod back before taking his seat towards the middle of the table.

It was when he was half way there that a voice cut across the noise of the din and reached Harry's ears.

"Potter!" He turned to see Malfoy sneering at him from his table. The entire hall had stopped chattering to watch the exchange that hadn't occurred for weeks. "Done crying over your dead parents?"

Hermione stood, ready to tell Malfoy to knock it off, when Harry raised a hand to still her. "Fuck off, Malfoy." He spoke quickly and turned back to his seat to pretend nothing had happened. Ron sat gaping with his mouth open until Hermione nudged him while she continued to eat her meal with a secret smile. Snape strode over five minutes later and stood behind Harry with his arms crossed.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for foul language in the Great Hall." He looked relieved as he spoke the words and left to go back to the dungeons.

"So, what do you think the chances are of the Arrows beating Puddlemere this week?" Harry asked. His best friend immediately broke into statistics and was quickly joined by Seamus. It was very slow, but at least it was progress.

He didn't say much still, but he was slowly pulling his life together. Harry tore his eyes away from the dying embers in the fireplace when a pop appeared right behind him. The first syllable of the disarming charm was on his lips before he recognized the man before him as Moody who was dressed in his customary dark cloak with an auror crest on it.

"I was told by Fudge to bring you this." He held in his battered hand a crisp scroll that had the seal of the Ministry of Magic stamped on it in a dark red wax. Harry took it and ripped it open to scan the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_It seems that once again you have managed to miss your meeting with the Ministry's Information Brief that was held at nine o'clock this morning. While we assume you are not out mingling with Death Eaters (You're not, are you?), we still require your presence. I have sent Auror Moody to assist you back. I have told him to be gentle but firm so please obey my request. That shall be all. Thank you, Mr. Potter._

_Cornelius Fudge_

_Minster of Magic_

_Order of Merlin Third Degree_

Harry laughed as he handed the letter back. Ever since Percy had supposedly left for the Dark Side, the minister had gone on a rampant Death Eater hunt in the ministry. In reality, Percy was currently spying for Dumbledore but he had been working to get into his character for the past two years. It was enough to convince Fudge to order the use of truth potions on all of the employees. Surprisingly, he had found a few dozen Death Eaters with the newly released Lucius Malfoy as an exception. For some reason, there seemed to be enough truth in his lies that he had been passed over. It was just another reminder of Fudge's incompetence. Besides the Death Eater hunts, Percy's absence meant Fudge was too scared to let anyone else have as much responsibility as Percy's job had once entitled. That meant that Fudge was writing his own letters that were so pathetic that they commanded little of the authority they possessed.

In addition to the ridiculous letters, the next act of stupidity by Fudge was to appoint an Information Brief among the aurors and the Unspeakables with Harry there as one of the few civilians. What went on during the meetings was almost comical and Harry enjoyed sitting with Dumbledore watching the verbal volley of the worst team in history. Most meetings progressed to something similar to this.

"I have heard that the Death Eaters are planning an attack on Vertic Alley." An auror would announce and all other aurors would nod their heads.

The Unspeakables would then look at each other with significant glances and the head Unspeakable would step forward and reply with, "We are not at liberty to say."

"What do you mean you can't say?"

"I can't tell you that either."

"Why not?"

"That, too, is confidential."

The auror would then throw his hands up in disbelief. "Then what good are you? Why not just eliminate the whole department if you refuse to share with us what you know?"

The Unspeakable's mouth would twitch for a moment, almost like he enjoyed taunting the aurors. "I can't tell you the answer."

"And why not?"

"I'm not at liberty to say." The auror would then storm out as Fudge sat at the head of the table and nodded his head before stroking his chin.

"Interesting." The minister would reply. "I think we've made real progress. Kingsley, look into it." He would then direct to an auror.

"Look into what sir?"

"Tell him Mosgrove." The minister would then command to the Unspeakable. Fudge abided by the philosophy that what he didn't know needed to be dictated to someone else. It happened a lot.

The Unspeakable would turn back to Kingsley and reply, "That's confidential."

"I see." The auror would nod back as if he understood just to end the meeting and Fudge would fake a look of comprehension.

"Good. I'm glad you are finally on the same page with us Kingsley. Meeting dismissed!" The gavel would be banged against wood and everyone would flood the door, eager to get back to where the world made sense.

Going to the meetings were pointless, but Fudge was indulged by Dumbledore who claimed he had nothing to do at nine o'clock on a Thursday morning. So the meetings continued and now Harry had to report to the ministry for a briefing of absolutely nothing that happened that day.

It was a full hour later when Harry stumbled out of the room that Fudge had scheduled for his briefing. How meaningless drivel could take a whole hour was beyond him, but there he was at noon on a Thursday, stumbling around the lower levels of the ministry trying to find the elevator. Instead he found a staircase. If he had been thinking like a wizard, he would have known to go up because he was underground, but instead he continued downward until he reached the last step outside a slick black door. This far down had condensation dripping from the hinges and Harry felt as if he was in a cave.

He looked up at the stairs and calculated that it was a hundred and seven floors before he was back to the main lobby. Luckily, he had been at level ninety-six when he left. Now, it suddenly occurred to him why he thought he could have traveled ninety-six floors when it obviously seemed so ridiculous. Instead he sighed and figured he'd go find an elevator on this floor.

As much as Harry felt like he was in a cave before, when he stepped in a room, it was even more evident. The walls were rough stone that looked as though they were just plowed through to create the corridor that he was walking in. Dim lights hung from the ceiling and he almost didn't spot the two people in the corridor until the light flickered in a moment of intensity.

Hoping they could direct him to an elevator, he walked over to the large man and his smaller companion. It wasn't until he was thirty feet away that he realized what was going on. Harry was thankful that the dim lights didn't give away his cover as he slowly blended into the shadows.

"Let go of me, you monstrous oaf." The voice bit out and Harry recognized it as Malfoy's. His haughty tone was broken with a small quiver from pain as he was held tight against the wall by the man's large beefy hands. They almost reminded him of Vernon's, but his uncle never touched him the way Malfoy was being handled.

"Come on you little whore. Take it just like your daddy did." He shoved Malfoy down on his knees and began to unzip his pants. With one hand he yanked the blonde's head up and even from this far away, Harry could see the fear racing in his gray eyes. The man's penis bobbed in front of his rival's face and it was then that Harry cast his spell.

"Stupefy!" The spell raced through the air with a blue streaking, hitting the guard in the side and knocking him backwards. Malfoy stared as his prone form in shock for a moment and then scurried closer to the wall as quickly as possible. Harry rushed over and looked at the other man, listening to Malfoy's retching in the background. When he turned to look at his rival he was shocked to see the face look familiarly gaunt as he had while with the Dursley's. His skin was grayish, his lips were chapped and his hair that was normally perfectly in place hung in greasy strands around his face.

"Potter." He said with a calm smile. "Why must we always see each other at our worst?"

"Because that's what rivals do." He replied as he pulled the other boy up and steadied him. They both looked down at the guard's form that took up half the hallway.

"You bastard." Malfoy said softly. "You son of a bitch." He repeated and clenched his fists. "You sick fuck." He delivered a harsh kick to his ribs before pouncing on him and smashing his face in with newly discovered strength. "You worthless piece of trash. You fucking tosser, piece of shit." Words continued to fly from his mouth and it was only when his punches grew less and less powerful that Harry pulled him off.

"Let's go." He said softly and turned Draco to leave when the blond suddenly shook his head.

"Just a moment." In a quick motion he stripped the guard of his shirt and one sock. He shoved the sock in his mouth and tied the shirt around to hold it tight. Next he ripped off his pants and yanked down the yellowish underwear to reveal a massive butt that Harry had to laugh at. Draco stripped the belt off his pants and bound his hands behind his back. "Give me the nightstick." Harry handed it over, and it didn't occur to him what was going to be done to it until the second before.

"Malfoy, maybe you should-" He faintly heard the squish of muscles giving away and turned in the other direction. When he looked back, the nightstick was at least ten inches in and Draco was proudly admiring his handy work.

"You want to fuck something? Fuck your own arse with this!" He raised a foot, ready to kick more in, but Harry grabbed him by the waist and hauled him away.

"I think that's enough." Draco tore at him, but finally slumped in Harry's arms and nodded. It was then that Harry noticed a silver collar that was resting on the blonde's neck. "What is that?" He asked and Draco slowly felt where Harry's hand was touching.

"Almost forgot." He reached back into the guard's pants and pulled a rod on a key chain out that slowly morphed as Draco spoke. "924." He said and the rod morphed into a key and he unhooked the collar and placed it on the guard, but pocketed the key.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as Draco led him down a corridor.

"Never mind. We have to get…" He trailed off as voices shot down the corridor. Harry found the door he had came from and shoved them both in it. "Fuck! Now we'll never get out." He panted as he ran up the stairs. Malfoy was fading fast and all that energy that he used on the guard had disappeared.

"Well, they'd never stop me." Harry said calmly.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Would you like to rub it in my face even more that your situation is better than my current one?"

Harry paused. "I do smell nicer."

"Just wait until I have another nightstick." He muttered.

"What I was saying was that I won't be stopped if I leave. So if I transfigure you into a small animal…"

"We can escape." The blond said triumphantly. "Maybe a snake."

"Or a ferret." Harry said as he twirled his wand. Looking at his scowl he laughed. "Just kidding." He shot off the first transfiguration spell he could think of and smiled as he picked up a little white Malfoy bunny that he quickly stuck in the inner pocket of his robe.

When he arrived back at Grimmauld Place, he reversed the transformation and was met with an angry Malfoy.

"A bunny, Potter? What the hell's wrong with you? Did you lead a deprived childhood?"

"First off, Malfoy, I have the wand, I helped you escape and I get to make the rules."

"What rules?"

"This is my home at the moment so you can't go running to Voldemort to tell him where I live."

The Slytherin looked around. "The Black Ancestral Manor?" Harry nodded. "Fine, Potter, I'll keep your little secret, but I…I…" He swayed a bit and Harry caught him before he hit the floor in his faint.

"Let's get you to bed."

------------

A/N: If you liked it or hated it, please review. I probably won't be updating as frequently as I originally planned because my characterization is a bit off for Draco later on so I'll be working on that a bit before I update again. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Second chapter is up! My beta is currently on vacation so any mistakes are entirely mine. When I posted the first chapter I was a little sad I received only one review (Thank you person who did review!), but I got more hits on this story than I have on my multi chaptered one. Oh well! What else….oh yes, I have finally given into Veela!Draco and started this story based around that. I may have just spoiled the chapter for you all, but it's going to be in the summary. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Two

Harry came down the next morning wondering what he had been thinking. He just broke into the ministry to save someone whose father worked for the enemy and chances were that the Malfoy heir would as well. He had no idea what crime had led Malfoy to be caught in the first place, and then to top it all off, he was allowing his rival to stay with him at the only place that was fairly safe for him.

Harry Potter had definitely lost it somewhere between the 99and 103rd floor, that was for sure. He only hoped his friends were more understanding. Strolling into the kitchen, he nicked a piece of bacon from the plate that Hermione had just set on the table and slid into the seat across from Ron and Hermione's.

The three had begged the adults to give them a bit of peace that summer by letting them stay in the manor by themselves. Hermione had reasoned that they were going to be out in a year anyway, so the experience would be good. Ron pleaded the case to his parents that he was thinking about living with his girlfriend of six months after graduation and he wanted to test it out first. This was done away from Hermione's ears, though not far enough from Fred and George's extendable ones that he and Hermione had purchased.

Both had pleaded that some time without all the adults might do Harry some good. He was finally overcoming his grief at Sirius' death and being in a place that had good memories might be the best. Reluctantly, they were allowed to stay with new precautions added onto the house. Instead of responding to the password that it was the Order's residence, it was keyed to Ron's blood, as Voldemort now possessed some of Harry's blood. In turn, he allowed it to be open to a select few, mostly the Weasley's and the Grangers, along with the professors, Tonks, Moody and Lupin.

Now it was the beginning of July and their first official day of freedom.

"Will you just look at that?" Hermione murmured. "Ron, remember how we were reading about the Malfoy's?"

Ron paused in soaking his pancakes in syrup and nodded. "A bit."

Harry's ears perked up. "What's going on with Malfoy?"

"Oh it's just horrible Harry." She said sadly.

"Horrible? Herm, it's deserved."

"Oh, quiet Ronald. Eat your diabetic shock." She snapped at him and turned back to Harry. "It is horrible. Apparently a few of the veelas have left to join Voldemort, so Fudge in his madness has ordered all veelas to be brought in. Most have been hiding it their whole lives, but someone let it slip to the minister that the Malfoy's had veela blood so they were taken in a week after school let out. No one knows where they are or what's happening to them."

"Good riddance."

Hermione stood up and glared at her boyfriend. "Urgh! I can't even look at you. Get out of the kitchen." She shrieked and Ron quickly scampered away. "I love that boy, but sometimes…"

Harry laughed and Hermione looked at him in shock. "You seem to be in a good mood today. How was the meeting?"

Harry fiddled with his fork for a moment. "Oh, you know…pointless." He cleared his throat and made himself a cup of tea. "So were the Malfoy's known to be veelas? I never heard anyone mention it."

"Mm, no. It wasn't well known. Part veelas are looked down upon as animals, just like full-blooded veelas. And Lucius Malfoy always promoted the importance of being a pureblood so that when it came out, it was a huge uproar. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it. Veelas are dark creatures and Mr. Malfoy has always been associated with dabbling in the Dark Arts so it made him seem more likely to be affiliated with the Dark Side. That's the main reason he was brought in. It was too risky to leave him out if they just accepted a bribe."

"So you would be happy if the veelas were let go?" Harry said slowly as he stirred his drink.

"Of course I would!" She said in surprise. "I've always been in favor of equal rights for all beings! Veelas don't deserve to be locked away."

Harry allowed a smile to creep onto his face. "Good. Hermione, why'd you bring up the subject anyway?"

"About the Malfoy family?" He nodded. "Well Draco Malfoy escaped last night. They claim it was dark magic, but my guess is that Fudge is an idiot." She said with a sigh of frustration.

"Maybe he did have help."

She turned to look at him with interest. "Like Voldemort?"

"Like me."

She paused and opened her mouth to reply when a voice drifted downstairs.

"Back you piece of Death Eater scum!"

"Shit!" Harry cried as he sprung out of his chair and dashed upstairs. "Ron, it's okay." He breathed when he got to the room across from his where Malfoy was. The blond looked a bit better than he had last night, but once again he appeared to be powered by his rage and was now glaring at Ron and displaying pointy fangs that Harry had never noticed. "Okay, everybody just calm down." He pushed Ron out of the room and then closed the door behind him, leaving the three Gryffindors in the hallway.

Ron was already sputtering to Hermione about the unknown occupant of the manor.

"Harry! What is that creep doing in there?" He finally said once he calmed down.

"I rescued him." At Ron's put out face, he continued. "They were abusing him."

"Good."

"Sexually." Ron's mouth gaped at the word and quietly walked downstairs. Harry leaned again the doorframe and slid to his feet, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He had no doubt that it was the correct thing to bring Malfoy to the house after he saw the treatment he was given, but it seemed that he had unearthed a greater problem. What was he to do with the other captives? With the Slytherin's parents? During the time of war, he wasn't sure if he could actively oppose the Minister, but with the public's favor, he might be able to rally enough support to protest their confinement.

While he was planning his next moves, Hermione sat down next to him and laid a reassuring hand on his. He jumped and then gave a small smile back. "Oh, Harry." She breathed out. "What are we going to do with you? How did you find him anyway?"

He shrugged. "I got lost in the ministry."

She gave a quick laugh. "One day your habit for being in the wrong place at the wrong time will have horrible consequences."

He shot her a meaningful look. "Hermione," He said slowly, "I have an escaped convict that I helped liberate from the Ministry in the room behind me. How worse could it get?" He sighed and reopened the door to look at the other boy who was sitting is shock on the bed. "What do I do with him?" He whispered to Hermione.

"Give him a bath; I'll prepare his breakfast." He walked into the room carefully, not eager to set him off again.

"Come on Malfoy. Let's go take a nice bath." He said slowly and was rewarded with a scowl.

"I was held prisoner, Potter, not robbed of my intelligence." He spat out and drew himself up to stagger across the room. Harry grabbed his arm and led him down to the large bathroom at the end of the hallway. He carefully filled the tub and helped the other boy stay upright as he undressed. Once Malfoy had slipped into the water, Harry began fiddling with the items around the tub. One of the bottles he found was one of Hermione's that she had brought with her for her own bath. Quickly before the blond could stop him, he sloshed a bit in and watched as light pink bubbles filled the tub. "Are you giving me a bubble bath?" Malfoy asked incredulously even as he picked up a handful of bubbles and let them drop from his spread fingers.

"I thought you might like the privacy." Harry shrugged and then sat on the toilet seat to stare at one point on the wall. He listened to the water slap against the body in the tub and the scratching noise of somebody getting clean for a few minutes before he spoke again. "So you're a veela, right?" For some reason he wasn't as shocked as he thought he should have been. Malfoy being a veela didn't seem so radically different than Malfoy the arrogant git at school or Malfoy the potential Death Eater. However, he supposed that the issue of blood never mattered much to him anyway so it made little difference now that Malfoy wasn't quite human.

"Yes, Potter." Came the weary sigh and the movements in the water stopped.

"So why aren't you attractive? I mean, like the veelas at the World Cup." He normally didn't speak this much, but for some reason his curiosity overcame him and he found that he couldn't hold back the questions that were floating through his mind.

"I assume you mean why you aren't attracted to me. Merlin knows I'm gorgeous to the rest of the population."

"Yeah, that."

"I have no idea. Why am I not attracted to you?" He continued and Harry looked over to see him running soap up pale arms. The act itself was graceful, almost like dancing. He had to shake his head to rid himself of those ridiculous thoughts.

"Do you attract only females?" Harry found himself asking and threw a hand over his mouth to stop the words from coming out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Potter? I am sitting here naked in the bathtub. Why not ask me about Quidditch scores or something? Don't quiz me about my sexuality." Harry looked down to see gray eyes watching with something akin to amusement and he shrugged in response to his two questions. "Well, if you must know," His voice had returned to its haughty tone, "my charm extends to both sexes. That's the difference between male and female veelas. However, females are much more potent with their attraction, which is why they are considered more dangerous." He said in a matter of fact sort of a way. "Whose shampoo is this?" Harry looked over to see Malfoy holding a bottle of Hermione's fruity shampoo that she had been using for years.

"Hermione's, I think." He commented and watched as Draco shrugged and added it to his hair.

"May I have a towel?" He asked courteously after a while and Harry slowly handed him one. They had never gotten along so well before that Harry was beginning to suspect something was up.

"Why are you being so nice?"

Malfoy paused in drying himself and Harry looked at him expectantly and then shifted his eyes. He really should have waited until they were both dressed, but for some reason he couldn't control his questions. He had never wanted to speak to someone as desperately as he wanted to with Malfoy, at least not in the past few months.

"We've had civil conversations before." He pointed out. "Last year in the library, for example."

Harry scoffed. "You mean after you pulled out my fingernails and beat me until I was rolling around in my own vomit."

"Yeah, after that." Harry shook his head in disbelief and walked out of the bathroom. Malfoy was definitely feeling better than he had before, but something horrible was going on underneath his aloof image. Harry remembered the fear he had seen in his eyes; it was probably an image he'd never forget. Something had happened to him while down in the lower levels of the ministry and Harry suspected the civility of their conversations was done to insure he wouldn't go back.

After Malfoy finished dressing in a pair of Harry's clothes, he led the blond down the stairs, but on the last step he felt a hand hold him back. "Down in the ministry you helped me out of a rather unpleasant situation." He crossed his arms and broke eye contact as he admitted that for once he wasn't in control of an aspect of his life. Harry could sense the annoyance that came with the admission and held his tongue from a remark he could have made. "My parents are still down there, however."

Harry sighed and nodded; it was like he thought. Malfoy just needed him for something. "And you need me to help get them out."

"I don't _need_ your help with anything, Potter." He sniffed and Harry rolled his eyes. I wasn't like Draco could go barging into the ministry to save his parents; he would definitely need Harry's help, whether he wanted to admit it or not. "But now that you mention it…"

A board creaked from in the kitchen and Harry looked to see Hermione standing at the door with an expectant look. He inclined his head at her and she disappeared back into the kitchen without a word. "We'll talk about it later."

Around noon, Hermione and Ron had disappeared yet again and Harry found himself one person short of a chess game. He ended up in the library. The Black Library wasn't anywhere near as impressive as Hogwarts, although the titles were certainly something he had never encountered at his school. It was a small, yet thorough collection of the history of the Black family, other purebloods, and of course the more dubious magic books. He had found a book outlining the history of the Malfoy Family once while he had been here with the Order, but hadn't found it as important then as he did now.

He found the book relatively easily and sat in one of the stiff-backed chairs at one of the tables with the large book in front of him. Within an hour he discovered that Hermione had been correct; the Malfoys were not known to have veela blood, even among the family they had married into. The Malfoy family wasn't the only one to hush up their blood lines, he discovered, when he looked up Narcissa's family tree and found that her mother wasn't named. Draco Malfoy's grandmother wasn't blown off the tree like Sirius, but instead seemed never to have existed. Harry was so intent on delving into the Malfoy history, that he didn't hear Malfoy walk in until he stood right behind him.

"Interesting book?" Harry jumped and slammed the book shut, which appeared to be a mistake because on the cover was the Malfoy crest that shone with gold inlay on the leather cover. "Interesting indeed."

Harry flushed, but hid it as he re-shelved the book and leaned up against the book case with a raised eyebrow.

"You said we'd talk later." Draco pointed out as he hopped onto the table where Harry was reading. "I'm going back to the ministry tonight." His tone left no room for discussion and Harry didn't even attempt to argue with him, just to shoot down his plans with logic.

"How?" For the second time in a year, Malfoy left him standing in the middle of a library mystified by what had taken place. Without even turning around, the thin blond called over his shoulder.

"You'll find out at eleven."

Hours had passed and Harry found himself alone, again, but now in the parlor of the Black Manor. He was dressed in black robes for an added aspect of stealth, and when Malfoy came down the stairs, he appeared to be dressed for the same. Harry's eyes slowly traveled up Malfoy's legs and he was slightly distracted at how the fabric clung to his upper thighs. They were his pants, but if the Slytherin looked this good in them, than Harry would selflessly give them up. Malfoy was currently borrowing them, seeing as it was next to impossible to slip into his home and retrieve any of his personal belongings. It had taken him and Ron (who didn't have to share because he was a foot taller than both Harry and Draco) half an hour to force Malfoy to accept the garments at the threat of letting Malfoy walk around naked. While Harry wouldn't have minded, Ron made it quite clear that neither he nor Hermione needed to be exposed to that sight. In Harry's opinion, he was being rather critical for a person who currently had no clothes besides the ones he had come with.

Harry had known since the middle of his sixth year that he was attracted to both men and women, with Malfoy being at the top of the list. He supposed it was a bit late for an identity crisis, but he found that as he spent more time away from people, he began to watch them more closely. It was a surprise to see that he was staring at the boys as intently as he watched the girls. He was given many chances to observe his rival and he came to the conclusion that the blond was rather stunning…when he wasn't being an egotistical idiot…which was nearly all of the time.

He had been staring at Malfoy's chest for the past few seconds and blinked his eyes twice before he caught the other boy's amused stare.

"See something you like?"

Harry snorted. "Yeah, my clothes." Malfoy's mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but instead fastened a dark cloak and revealed a satchel of items. "What's in the bag?"

He watched as his invisibility cloak was removed, along with floo powder, two potion vials, that strange key Malfoy had grabbed in the Ministry and six short pieces of rope.

"Do I want to know what you're planning?" Harry asked as he pulled up the hood on his cloak and followed the Slytherin out to the porch where his broom was. Glancing at the broom and his invisibility cloak, he wondered what else he had gone through that belonged to Harry.

"I'll explain on the way there." He mounted the broom, patted the back and looked expectantly at Harry.

"My broomstick, I'm steering." They had a silent battle of wills before Draco sighed and slid back. They didn't have time to fight according to the plan.

The plan was, quite possibly, the worst plan Harry had ever heard outside the debriefing room at the Ministry. However, as they were plotting against Fudge, there was a fairly high success rate. The first step was to sneak into the Ministry. It was easy enough because Harry had been given a key to the backdoor, which was actually just an underground slide that connected to a mailbox on the street that was two blocks to the right and one block behind the telephone booth. It was the next step that had Harry worried; step two was to free the veelas. Harry didn't ask him to elaborate because he had the horrible suspicion that that was the whole plan. Step three, the final step, was to activate the rope portkeys that Malfoy had keyed to Hogwarts and get everyone out of London.

Using the portkeys was a rather brilliant move, Harry had to admit, especially because they were notoriously difficult to make and yet Malfoy had managed six in a day. There was definitely something to be said about determination.

Step one had gone off without a hitch and they were currently in the middle of step two as they flew down over a hundred staircases on the Firebolt. Malfoy had already disappeared with the invisibility cloak and Harry once again was reminded of how stupid the plan really was. They touched down outside the rather unique door and slipped in as quietly as possible. Wordlessly, Harry was handed one of the vials and he watched as the darkened shape next to him drank it. Sighing, he did the same and was shocked to see the hallway change from solid black to a dull but highly visible gray. His eyes narrowed; Malfoy may have been determined, but there was no conceivable way he could brew a night vision potion and create six portkeys is such a short amount of time.

Now wasn't the time to confront him. Instead he allowed an invisible hand to draw him through the corridors. He tried to memorize the turns, but at the rate Draco was moving, the pathway just seemed blurred. It struck Harry that it was a bit strange that there were no guards and at that very moment, a horrible thought gripped him. What if it was a trap like in fifth year? Maybe Draco had given him poison, maybe he was being led to Voldemort. Again. Hermione was right; he really needed to think before he acted, but for some reason that was harder with Draco than it was in theory.

The hand pulling his suddenly dropped right before they turned the corner and Harry peered around the edge to see nine guards camped out in front of a thick wooden door. Just as he was figuring how to manage to stun all of the guards, he felt a hand brush up against his leg. Looking down, he saw nothing but air and turned back to the guards just in time to see a vial he had never seen before shatter against the ground and release a smoke that appeared gray in his vision. One by one, the guards stumbled to the floor and Harry was pulled forward to the door.

Stepping over one of the prone bodies, he was relieved to see the guard sleeping peacefully. Malfoy had a streak for vengeance, and Harry wasn't quite sure what he'd do if something was in his way. The Slytherin had been right in the library; he just didn't have the hate in him to utilize the Dark Arts that he had been learning. He had enough hate aimed at Bellatrix and Wormtail, but not to the degree where he could torture and maim others based on those feelings.

"Locking charm." He heard the words muttered to his side and that was the part where Harry's presence was required because he was still in possession of a wand although it had been mysteriously missing for several hours that day. Starting with the lower level charms, he worked through his repertoire of unlocking charms until he came across a moderately difficult one. The door clicked and it was pushed forward by an invisible hand.

The first thing that Harry noticed was the stench. It was a horrible odor that simply exploded when the door was fully open. The only thing he could match it to was a barn setting or a zoo, where animals lived in their own filth. Malfoy wasted no time and immediately began waking the veelas up who watched with wide eyes as one of their own attempted to set them free. Harry pulled his wand out and ran through every unlocking charm he knew until the cells were sprung open and the veelas poured into the hallway in a frenzy to get out.

"I know you all want to leave." Malfoy said over the noise that dimmed as one of their saviors spoke. "But we need to get the collars off. Know your number." The yelling started up again until five hundred veelas had been freed and were waiting instructions.

"We can't get all of them out with these." Harry whispered and watched as all of the eager, hopeful eyes turned towards him. "We need another portkey, one that's larger."

He was answered with just a shake of a head. "Just get them out." He turned and unlocked the last few. Harry knew this plan had opportunities to fail, and he stood right in the middle of it.

His voice raised above the noise as he passed out the ropes. "Crowd around. Get as many hands on this as you can." They understood better than he did and he watched in awe as they split the ropes, leaving only one end braided. Grubby hands gripped the strands as if they were a life line. Harry watched as dozens crowded around ropes only a third of a meter long until there was no rope to be seen under the marred flesh of their hands. Quickly activating the first one, sixty veelas disappeared in a whir of color.

They needed another portkey. He was contemplating getting one when something caught his attention. It wasn't a noise, because he could barely hear himself speaking in the small room, instead it was a feeling. Hesitantly, he approached the door and looked over the guards' bodies. A tip of a wand was his only warning before a spell shot out from behind the corner where he and Malfoy had hid earlier. The spell missed and left a scorch mark on the wall, and he wasted no time in slamming the door shut and reinforcing it with wards. He knew it wouldn't hold because even now it rattled dangerously, but he couldn't just stand to protect it because the portkeys needed to be activated and the only wand in the room was his.

His eyes flickered back and forth between the door and the hundreds of veelas who were all clamoring over each other for a piece of the rope. He saw a flash of blond to his side and knew instinctively that it was Malfoy.

"I'm a bit busy now." Harry gasped out as he felt a ward go down. It was strengthened and put back up, but the constant use of magic was draining him.

"We need to get them out. You can activate a few more before they break through entirely." He sounded resigned and some part of Harry that was pushing for the wards to hold shattered at the defeat. The plan just had to work.

"We need another portkey." Malfoy looked at him in surprise but nodded when he saw Harry clench his jaw as his magic was rippled back to him when another ward broke.

Just like when he had known of Malfoy's approach, Harry sensed the identity of the shadow behind him. It gave him a shiver up his back and he knew without turning around that it was Lucius Malfoy. "Perhaps I can help."

"How?" Harry gritted back as sweat began to run down his forehead. He was running out of spells and time.

"Can you do wandless magic?" The question took him by surprise and he nearly dropped all of his wards in shock. Dumbledore was the only one who knew of his skill in wandless magic. He had nearly perfected it when he went without speaking, but he rarely did it in public. For Lucius Malfoy to know was unnerving because it implied that Voldemort knew as well.

Harry nodded at the question. If it would get everyone out, then he would go to Voldemort and divulge every secret he possessed.

"Maintain the wards with wandless magic and give me your wand." A sense of cold dread filled him again. He couldn't just hand over his wand, but as he took in the sunken eyes, the skeletal face and the desperate expression on his enemy, he wordlessly handed it over. Lucius Malfoy was too proud of a man to risk being locked up for a quick blow to the enemy. Without the wand, his magic wasn't channeled and dulled so the shields and wards held a bit longer. Glancing behind him, he saw Lucius Malfoy taking strips of his son's cloak and changing them into portkeys as well. Now only a hundred or so veelas remained.

"How long will the door hold when you stop pouring magic into it?" Malfoy asked calmly as he began packing up his satchel.

The door rattled again. "Thirty seconds, maybe." He looked over to see the younger Malfoy fingering his wand that he must have gotten back from his father.

"Incendio. Let's go." Harry looked behind him to see all of the prisoners gone and a fire roaring in a fireplace that had been at the end of the room. He took out a pinch of floo powder and watched as it turned a brilliant green before stepping up.

"We'll have to floo together. You can't get into the house without me." Harry said and stepped into the fireplace. Malfoy stepped up as well and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. Harry flushed at the close contact and he felt heat travel through him before settling in the pit of his stomach. He called out the name of his home and the last thing he saw before the cells swirled away was a flushed Fudge with his wand out and still in his nightclothes.

They fell out of the fireplace in a tangled heap. Malfoy kicked his legs aside so he could stand and missed the sour expression on Harry's face.

"Now what?" Harry asked as the fire was restarted and already flickering green with floo powder.

"Where do you think?" Malfoy said as he flipped a piece of hair out of his eyes and stepped back in.

Harry sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day and followed him to Hogsmeade and later Hogwarts.

By the time they had gotten back, it was nine in the morning and Harry was now officially going a whole day without sleep. Dumbledore had responded quickly enough and by the time Harry and Malfoy had reached the Great Hall, the five hundred refugees were being escorted to the four houses' dormitories. Madam Pomfrey was dashing from person to person with an irritated Snape in tow. While it was a bit funny seeing his potion master being ordered around by the plump little nurse, Harry had no time to enjoy it. Instead, he was sent to Dumbledore's office while Malfoy was allowed to speak with his parents. By the time the whole story was out, he had lost his adrenaline high and was exhausted.

He and Malfoy had just stumbled through the fireplace and were headed to the stairs when a well-rested redhead turned them around.

"Wrong way, Harry! Don't want to miss out on breakfast!" He sang as he pushed the two unwilling bodies in the direction of the kitchen. "It's Hermione's last day to cook and who knows what will be edible tomorrow when I have kitchen duty!" Harry groaned and turned his head to look at his accomplice who was looking rather cranky as he was pushed into a chair. A plate of eggs was pushed in front of him and Hermione smiled encouragingly. Pushing the plate away, he stood up and left. From the dragging footsteps behind him, he knew Malfoy had followed.

He had slept the day away and was now sitting out in the Black garden. It wasn't much of a garden now, but at one time it had been spectacular. Twice the size of the house, the backyard was once surrounded by a hedge that shifted to reveal different secluded spots. A dead end could have meant encountering a forever blossoming pear tree, a quiet garden of exotic flowers or a trap of carnivorous plants. In the Black family history book, it explained the details of a contained fire that had burnt the hedges and the garden down to the roots and left for a short time a very barren landscape.

Currently, he was hidden from view on a stone bench that was concealed by a wall of tall grasses that had sprung up in the past years. Ron had called him to dinner an hour or so ago, but soon gave up when he failed to spot him. It was growing dark now and he knew he had to get back soon or else his friends might send out a search party. Harry laughed a bit at the thought; it was precisely why he hadn't mentioned his and Malfoy's nightly activities. Besides, as soon as tomorrow's paper got out, Hermione would be able to put two and two together and figure out what he had been doing last night. No, he wouldn't tell them but would instead enjoy the peaceful evening as a nice change from his hectic morning.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, a gust of wind blew past his ear and he turned to see a black wing arch and begin to fold backward. The wing was leathery feeling, he discovered, when he ran a finger over it. It quivered a bit but didn't retract further and Harry knew that Malfoy was allowing him to touch it. It was thin, just skin stretched over bone, but they felt very powerful. He ran a hand over the arch and jerked his hand back as the whole wing was stretched back and pulled into the Slytherin's back.

"Quite the entrance." Harry commented.

He didn't have to see the eye roll to know that Malfoy was a bit annoyed. "Well no one else could find you and I had a feeling you were out here but it was difficult to see from the ground." He looked around. "It's nice, in a tranquil kind of a way."

"Why are you out here? Were you worried?" He asked in a mocking tone and was surprised to see he elicited a smile.

"You wish Potter. The reason I'm here is that I won't be able to sleep tonight." He paused as if this was something significant before continuing. "So I decided to go to London and I want you to come with me." The last part was said with an even haughtier tone that Harry recognized on Malfoy when he was eleven. It was used to cover up insecurity and Harry hid a smile.

"You do know you're wanted by the ministry." He began as they trekked back to the house.

"It's half the fun." Malfoy was silent for a few moments as they approached the house. Harry grabbed his arm and turned him face to face.

"What you did last night," Harry began and watched as a look of horror appeared in Malfoy's eyes at his next words, "Was amazing."

"Wait, Potter-" He began but was cut off as the person opposite of him began to speak again.

Harry continued with respect coloring his tone. "No, the way you rescued those people…"

"Please, I beg you-"

"It showed a lot of courage-"

"Potter-"

"And compassion-"

"Oh for fucks sake Potter, it was just a final fuck you to the Ministry. There was nothing heroic about." Malfoy crossed his arms and quickly averted his eyes.

Harry just smiled and continued on to the house. "No it wasn't. You actually care for them."

"I don't know what you're talking about." His eyes darted in every direction and the tip of his pink tongue licked his lips almost nervously. Such a human emotion, the anxiety, was almost adorable on someone as reserved as the Slytherin.

"When that little girl was crying because some desperate veela knocked her to the ground in a hurry to get his collar off, you hugged her."

"To stop her whining!" He looked decidedly put off that Harry had remembered that small event and opened his mouth to tell him.

Harry had already turned around and began jogging backwards to the house. "I don't think so." He sang. "You're a good guy." He turned around and ran to the house with a fuming Malfoy behind. By the time he reached the door and had disappeared inside, he missed the smile that crept across Malfoy's face.

"Maybe just a little."

They were out every night for the next week, slipping into muggle pubs with the use of an aging potion that Malfoy had picked up in the same place he had found six portkeys and the other two potions used during the break-in: Knockturn Alley. He had been concerned at first, but like Malfoy had reasoned, who in Knockturn Alley and the muggle world would turn him in?

Harry was currently sprawled in a booth playing with a coaster as Malfoy took shots of some drink that they both had forgotten the name of.

"We're never going to get home." Harry moaned and then giggled for a few seconds at the thought of splinching himself as he apparated. Malfoy hadn't learned yet, and even if he could, Malfoy was as drunk as he was even if it was not as obvious. Instead of lying boneless like Harry was, he had his back against the wall with his legs dangling out the other end of the booth. His eyes were slightly glazed over and his face appeared a bit more flushed than normal.

"S'why I brought this." He looked to see his broom shrunken to be the size of a toothpick. Groaning again, he reiterated his previous statement. "We'll make it. You're the youngest seeker in a century, and I am Draco Malfoy." He said the last part like it was supposed to mean something, but Harry was just too tired to figure it out.

"Let's just go home." He staggered to the front door while Malfoy left some of their converted galleons and sickles on the table. Harry had stopped by the bank earlier that day under the pretense of replenishing his potion ingredients. Hermione and Ron wouldn't have noticed if he had outright said that he was converting money to go get drunk with Draco Malfoy, but he had covered his tracks any way. Lately he hadn't see much of his friends except at dinner, but Ron was too busy to notice anything besides his food and Hermione kept shooting him glares for his reckless behavior that had appeared in the paper several days ago. The Ministry had released their statement that twenty Death Eaters broke into the building and liberated their veela accomplices. Harry had a suspicion that Fudge issued it.

Draco had thrown the article in the fire as soon as he caught sight of it. Somewhere along the line, Malfoy had changed to Draco in his mind. It just sounded better, less hostile and now that they were sort of friends, or as Malfoy put it 'drinking buddies', the name just fit. He hadn't spoken it aloud yet and several times he had to stop himself as the first syllable passed his lips. Draco seemed to be calling the shots for their friendship and he hadn't put them on a first name basis.

Stepping out into the cool air sobered Harry a bit even as he swayed on the spot. Behind him, Draco waved goodnight to the barkeep and held the broom out to Harry who enlarged it with a wave of his hand. There was no need for his wand now that Draco knew of his wandless magic. It wouldn't have mattered if he had used his wand anyway; Dumbledore had used his influence with the Ministry to stop the tracking of his magic use under the pretense that Harry could freely prepare himself a bit more for the beginnings of the war.

Draco was flying, something Harry only allowed when he felt too tipsy to steer well. However, instead of steering towards Grimmauld Place, Harry discovered they were in another part of London where the Ministry was hidden.

"You're going to get arrested." Harry warned but was met with a shrug. They were hovering over the telephone booth and Draco swung a leg over the broom so that he could sit sideways. The Gryffindor looked down and followed Draco's hand as he unzipped his trousers. "What are you-" His eyes widened and his cheeks burned as he watched Draco urinate on top of the phone booth.

"Don't you want to give it a go? It's very liberating." Draco said with a nod as he did up his pants and swung the other leg around so that he was facing Harry.

"I'm not going to pee on a telephone booth." Harry hissed. "It's childish." He added with a sniff.

"Are you afraid of getting caught?" He received no answer and continued to taunt Harry. "Is it your cock? Afraid for me to see it? Kind of small?" He gave him a consolatory smile.

"If I do this, can we leave?" Harry asked as he looked around the area. Draco nodded with a wide smile. Drinking, Harry discovered, really loosened up Draco's facial muscles because he had a new expression on his face every five seconds. Slowly, in fear that he might fall, Harry turned himself around so he was in the same position Malfoy had been in. He looked down at the phone booth but didn't move.

"Don't back out on me now Potter." Draco goaded as Harry stared down and took a deep breath. "Here, I'll give you a hand." He was about to protest, but it died on his lips as Draco reached forward and slowly tugged the zipper down. Harry forgot to breath and had to gulp down air as he looked at the hand that hadn't moved from his zipper.

"Draco." The sound came out a breathy whisper as he exhaled and the two locked eyes. Sitting here, Draco looked like a fallen angel. His hair was tousled by the breeze and his eyes were black under the cloudy sky. They were the same eyes that spoke of lust and were currently blazing at Harry who had again forgotten how to breathe. It almost seemed odd that he had never noticed the small details that made Draco ethereal.

"Still want a hand?" Draco licked his lips, well aware of a pair of green eyes that followed the movement. "Maybe it's a little shy." His fingers slowly slipped into his pants and Harry bit back a moan as he was cupped by a warm hand. All too soon, the warmth was gone and his penis was exposed to the cool night air. His erection that Draco's cupping had caused had disappeared at the cold, but at the first touch of Draco's hand it jumped to attention. Draco broke eye contact and looked down. "Well, well. Not that shy. And not that small." Draco said with a laugh. "I was wrong on both counts." He leaned forward with his eyes now focused on Harry's lips. They were millimeters apart when a voice sounded from below them.

"What are you two-" He didn't finish because Draco had taken control of the broom after warning Harry to hold on and was speeding through the night. Harry was gripping the broom with one hand as he tucked himself away with the other, trying not to think of the kiss that might have been.

A spell shot past his ear and Harry looked to see six figures on broomsticks racing towards him.

"Sober enough to apparate?" Draco called. He wrapped one arm securely around Draco and grabbed the broomstick with another. With a 'pop' they were gone.

When they stumbled in the house, they were too busy laughing at their escape and good fortune not to be splinched, that the awkwardness of before was gone. It only lasted a moment before Harry tripped over the rug and nearly took down Draco with him. Instead he was hoisted back up until his body was brushing up against the blonde's. Blood pulled in his groin again at the proximity and Draco's eyes were now molten silver as desire crept into them.

"We shouldn't." Harry whispered as his breath mingled with Draco's. Even as he spoke the words, he didn't put much conviction in them. His body was betraying him as it leaned even closer to the other man.

"Blame it on the drink in the morning. Blame it on adrenaline, or hormones, or mercury in retrograde, just let me." The sentence remained unfinished as to what he wanted to do, but some part of Harry knew the answer to his breathy request. Hands had come up on either side of Harry's neck; one had sunken into dark silky tresses while the other just barely brushed the nape of his neck with curious fingertips. Against his better judgement, he nodded and was rewarded with a very coy smile that didn't fit with the Draco he knew. As soon as he had seen it, the smile was replaced with a calculating one and Draco Malfoy was back in control.

As he was led up the stairs, Harry closed his eyes and just let himself feel.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Third chapter is done! This one took a while to write, which is why there's such a gap between my updates. I'm still searching for my plot, so updates will become fewer and far between as I work to establish it, but I am working on it. I'll probably change the summary eventually, and, yes, I know that I said that last time, but I haven't decided on anything that fits. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Harry lay in bed for a few minutes longer than necessary the next morning. There was something strange that he couldn't put his finger on yet. He knew that the cottony feeling in his mouth, the fuzziness in his head and the nausea was to be expected from last night, but there was something wrong with the room as well. His eyes hadn't opened yet, but he had the unnerving feeling that he was being watched and at once it clicked. Someone else was in the room with him. A rustle of a sheet sounded and he realized that someone wasn't just in the same room but in the same bed.

Cracking an eye open, he looked to see Draco sitting fully dressed with a glass of water in one hand and a chalky tablet in the other. "Drink this." He did so and then looked at the round disk that was pressed into his hand. "Snape owled me his hangover cure yesterday." The tablet fizzed all the way down his throat; he coughed slightly and finished his water before handing it back to Draco who set it on a nightstand. A nightstand that wasn't his, Harry thought as he looked around the room. He was in Draco's room.

"How'd I get into your room?" He asked. Pulling the pillows behind his back, he sat up and then froze as a bit of last evening came back to him. Draco touching him, their almost kiss, him being led to this room by a hand on his waist. "Oh Merlin." He swore and collapsed on his side. "What happened last night? We didn't…I mean, you and I…Did we?" Harry finished and looked over at Draco who raised an eyebrow.

"You don't remember? I've been told I'm unforgettable." The last word came out as a purr and Harry gulped. Wouldn't it just be his luck that his first time ever and possibly last time with Draco was something he had forgotten? "It was amazing, really. We came up here, you fumbled with my shirt buttons, I got you down to your boxers. Then I threw you onto the bed and I crawled down your body until my hands slipped under the waistband of your shorts. I look up and…" He paused and took in Harry's wide-eyed expression, "You had passed out." Even Draco had to quirk a small smile at his shocked expression. "You better get up, Weasley is looking for you." He stood up to leave, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

Draco yelped as he was yanked back onto the bed and rolled under Harry in a tangle of sheets and legs. Harry placed an elbow on either side of his face and looked down at the Slytherin who was taking shallow breaths. "How did that go again? I fumble with you shirt buttons," As he said this, a finger ran down Draco's breastbone, "but you have no buttons." He shrugged. "We'll improvise." His hand found its way under Draco's shirt and he let his fingers slowly rove over the warm abdomen beneath them.

Truthfully, he hadn't even planned on getting this far, but he felt compelled to go further than his inhibitions normally allowed. Draco's stomach quivered beneath his hand and he smiled as he rested his body on Draco's small frame. His breathing hitched and he stared into Harry's eyes with insecurity, a contradiction to the cocky front he always put up.

His hips aligned with Draco and he felt hands come up from the bed to hold his hips in a possessive grip. Heat spread through his body as Draco's hands fanned out and roughly grabbed his arse before flipping him back over. The movement brought their cocks into contact and Harry rolled his head back and moaned while Draco smirked above him.

"I like to be on top." Harry's eyes were shining with lust and he reached a hand around Draco's head to pull him into a rough kiss. It wasn't as strange as Harry expected, kissing a man. His experience was limited to an awkward kiss with Cho and a few fumbling ones with Ginny in the beginning of sixth year. The girls were softer, hesitant and let him lead. With Draco, it was harsh, about dominance and possession. Draco bit his lip and when Harry gasped, a tongue was slipped in. Draco explored every bit of his mouth before retreating back into his own mouth. He stared down at Harry and then leaned in for a softer kiss on his bruised lips.

They kiss became slower but still as intense and instead of fighting with Draco's tongue, Harry just allowed his lips to move against the ones above him. His mouth was released again, as Draco placed small kisses up his jawbone. Harry felt a little unsure what to do, but then his hips were brought into contact with the ones above him and he was too delirious to care. Their hips ground against each other and the feeling of Draco against the thin material of his boxers nearly pushed him over the edge.

When he was eleven, there had been nothing as thrilling, as liberating, as euphoric as being on a broom. Yet now as he lay here with his body being manipulated by the person above him, brooms seemed silly. Touching Draco wasn't sport or a game, but an expression of the passion, the anger, the heat that he kept inside him. The heat only continued to rise as Draco moved from his jawbone to his neck. His body was being played by Draco who learned quickly how to produce a moan or a sigh by the use of his mouth over a sensitive area of skin. Harry yelped as teeth closed over part of his neck, and he gripped platinum locks in harsh retaliation. With a quick push, Draco was once again on his back, with Harry's hands on his chest and his legs on either side of Draco's pelvis.

Harry's hair was sticking up in wild angles, he had a red spot on his neck and his lips were bruised; in Draco's opinion, he had never looked better than he did with the marks that were evidence that Draco had conquered that part of flesh. His cock throbbed incessantly against his pants and Harry followed his sight down. Slowly, he pulled the zipper down and Draco breathed harshly at the idea of Harry touching him on…

"Malfoy, have you found Harry yet?" Ron's voice shouted from the other side of the door. Harry yelped and fell off the bed taking Draco and all the sheets with him. Draco ended up with his face smashed in the carpet and an elbow in his back. The door creaked open and Ron poked his head in.

"Are you okay?" He asked a bit hesitantly and then jumped back when Draco's head shot up.

"Fine!"

"What are you doing?" Harry was lying on the floor and heard the suspicion in Ron's voice. Luckily, Draco had the bed between him and Ron, which stopped prying eyes from seeing who was with him.

Draco's face was flushed and his hair was messier than Harry's was normally. He thought quickly to come up with a believable enough lie to explain his frazzled appearance. "Making my bed."

"Do you know how to make a bed?" Ron questioned and Harry bit back a laugh. Draco looked down and flicked him on the forehead.

"I'm learning, hence the mess." He gestured and Harry tried really hard to stop laughing, but a chuckle escaped him.

Ron's voice grew even more suspicious. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Draco's face had returned to its normal pale complexion and he now looked positively angelic.

"That noise." He paused. "Is there someone down there?"

"Yes, Weasley," He began with a long suffering sigh, "I was preparing to shag Potter before you barged in. Please leave while I strip away the rest of his innocence." Harry frowned and slapped his thigh. Draco's smile tightened, but he held it for Ron.

Ron didn't rise to the bait and Harry felt enormous gratitude towards his best friend for being so mature in this situation. Hermione was really having an influence on his explosive best friend. "Are you sure? Because it sounded like-"

"Merlin! Can't a man make his bed in peace? What are you, the bloody inquisition?" Ron apparently decided to leave him alone and quickly closed the door behind him. Draco slumped to the ground and glared at Harry.

"Making the bed?" Harry said with a laugh.

Draco frowned. "You're awfully cocky for someone who hasn't gotten laid yet."

Harry glared. "You're one to talk. Arrogant bastard." He muttered, still smiling as he pulled on discarded jeans.

"Goody-two shoes."

"Closeted goody-two shoes." Harry shot back.

"Golden Boy."

"Slut."

"Virgin." He rolled his eyes at the last comment and began buttoning up his shirt. On the last button, Draco stepped over and did it for him.

"You really chose a bad time for me to debauch you." Draco commented as he went to the mirror and brushed his hair with his fingers, trying to get it in some semblance of order. "With the whole Weasley clan here." He added and was spun around by Harry.

"What?" He hissed and hurriedly tried to flatten his hair. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"You mean when you were on top of me?" Draco shot back. Harry paused and smiled. "Don't look so smug."

"Are we going out tonight?"

Draco shook his head and fell back onto his bed. "No. I'd rather finish what you started. And as we keep getting interrupted, we need the whole evening." He was answered with a nod.

"So what are you going to do with yourself all day?" He said when he had reached the door. Draco looked around.

"Figure out how to make my bed." He said as he got off the bed and began sorting through the mess of bedding.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You're serious? That won't take more than half an hour." Draco looked a bit confused as he began picking up various sheets.

"Why does this one have elastic at the ends?" Harry just shook his head and left. Maybe it would take all day.

Draco had been lying when he said the Weasleys were downstairs; the house was practically bursting with people. When Ron and Hermione were convincing their parents to allow them to stay by themselves, there were certain conditions. One of which was that the families should be allowed to visit the house and it seemed they had all decided on today. The Order also did periodic check-ups, which would explain why Tonks and Dumbledore were currently fighting over the last biscuit.

He was shoved in a chair between Bill and Fred or George, he wasn't quite sure. Tea was being passed around him as Mrs. Weasley brought out more food and one of the twins kept poking him to get him to eat some new product they were thinking of selling. The desire to run back upstairs and ravage Draco was overwhelming and he sighed as he swirled around the tea in his cup. Dumbledore was looking over his glasses from across the table at Harry.

"Did you sleep well, Harry?" His head shot up and he wouldn't have been alarmed if not for the twinkle in his eyes. There was no way that Dumbledore could know what had almost happened, but even as he thought it, he realized that the elderly wizard always did have a knack for knowing things he shouldn't. He nodded and glared at the old coot before slinking down in his chair.

The time passed extremely slowly. Harry toyed with his spoon and fell in and out of conversation as the people around him realized he was in no condition to give any intelligent response. It had not helped that Dumbledore kept throwing him knowing glasses as he smiled benevolently over the rim of his tea cup.

Tea had progressed to Order business and everyone was moved to the sitting room. Harry was content to let himself die of mortification right there, but he found himself being pulled up by Tonks who led him to the room and placed herself right in-between him and Charlie. Ginny had nabbed the spot next to him and for the next ten minutes he had to watch Ron wiggle his eyebrows at the two of them. He supposed death by mortification could be achieved here as well.

Ron had long hinted at a relationship between Harry and Ginny. It was like some sort of fairytale he had planned out; he and Hermione together with Harry and Ginny as a couple even though the latter pair had already tried and had broken up. However, this wasn't common knowledge to Ron and he tried to ignore his best friend and listen to Ginny as she told of how her relationship with Michael Corner had failed when they dated yet again. Nods were thrown in at the right place and he smiled to encourage her, and Ginny continued on completely oblivious to the fact that he wasn't paying any attention.

They had had a relationship a year ago. It hadn't ended in disaster, like Harry had thought it would, but just faded away as the last bit of curiosity died out of Harry and the remains of Ginny's lingering crush focused on someone else. With only two weeks of their lives invested in the relationship, it was understood between them that it was to be kept from Ron at all costs. While he was pushing for the two to get together, Harry wasn't sure how'd he react to knowing that a few snogs with his sister was all he got out of their relationship. Now, he was forced to be the sympathetic ex-boyfriend, a role Ginny gave to him and exploited frequently. It meant he was the one she came to when she wanted a man's opinion, but didn't want her brothers. All in all, it wasn't too bad of a trade off; Ginny was sarcastic, witty and could hold her own against anybody, from Professor Snape to the burliest seventh year.

She was, Harry reflected, a little too absorbed with the opposite sex. In the time after Ginny had discovered her sexuality, she was frequently seen on the arm of her newest catch, much to Ron's fuming disapproval. Yet by the time Ron cornered the young wizard, she had already moved on and kept a keen eye out for her next short-lived relationship. Even when they had been together, she had occasionally followed a Ravenclaw's form a little too closely for most boyfriends to be comfortable.

Harry hadn't really cared either way; he had been finding some escape from Sirius' death and slipping slowly into his somber state that would last the rest of the year. He had never really understood why Ginny was so obsessed. While he admitted at that time that he was interested in girls, he couldn't see how anybody, male or female, could hold someone's attention for anything other than a passing glance. That was before he got involved with Draco Malfoy, he sighed in his head and tuned back into Ginny's one-sided conversation where she was describing how Michael had forgotten their one month anniversary.

After half an hour of this, Dumbledore stood up and quieted everyone down. "There is a reason you're all here." He began and Harry instantly began to pay attention. The Grangers looked a little unsure what to do, but they bravely listened on. "I know we have all heard about Draco Malfoy escaping from the ministry and that Death Eaters had a hand in helping the other veelas escape."

"What's a veela?" Mrs. Granger said with the same tone Hermione had when researching some subject that fascinated her. It seemed the pursuit of knowledge was not only enjoyed by one member of the Granger family.

Much to Harry's surprise, Tonks was the one to explain. "They're magical creatures with a type of allure that attracts humans and other beings. Veelas look human, but when they are angry or when they choose to they can shift into a bird-like creature. A few wizard families have veela blood in them."

"However," Harry began, "Some of the veelas started joining Voldemort, so the Ministry kidnapped them and locked them in the lowest level of the Ministry in captivity. For months they were underground, assaulted, humiliated and nearly starved." He finished with a cold look in his eyes. The Grangers looked noticeably shocked, as did the rest of the circle. It wasn't just the words that shocked them, but the bitterness that had seeped into his voice.

Ron shot him a look that Harry shrugged off and waited for Dumbledore to continue. The rest of the afternoon was spent discussing what to do with the veelas now that they were at Hogwarts. The Minister of Magic remained completely oblivious to the fact that several hundred veelas had now taken up residence in Hogwarts, but Harry wasn't really surprised. He knew little of what was going on in his own building, let alone the rest of magical Great Britain.

Twice he thought about just leaving the group to sneak back upstairs, but he couldn't find a plausible way to excuse himself. Instead, he allowed himself the pleasure to center his thoughts on Draco. He could just imagine the blond stretching over the bed in an attempt to fasten a sheet. His profile would be clear and Harry's eyes would follow the curve of his hips to a pert butt. The imagine disappeared and his mind flashed again with Draco naked with sweat rivulets sneaking down his back; Harry's tongue would run up his spine and taste the salty essence of Draco before sinking his teeth into a straining shoulder to muffle his cries of pleasure.

He had never allowed himself to indulge in fantasies before because it seemed like such an invasion of privacy on his partner's behalf. But with Draco he knew that the other man would relish in being the subject of his dream and probably get off on it. Harry's darkest thoughts about possession, about hard fucking would probably make gray eyes glow with lust as he described in detail what he wanted to do to the willing body beneath him. Draco's mouth would be a painful red from brutal kisses and-

"Mr. Potter!" He looked to see Snape looking down at him from his perch on the chair. Immediately, his fantasy life was squashed and he took in the man before him with wide eyes. His potion master didn't look like a man who might have peaked into his student's fantasy, and Harry felt relieved that his thoughts remained his and away from inquisitive minds.

"Yes?" The response was bland as he waited for Snape to continue. Glancing around the room told him that all eyes were now on him and he vaguely wondered what he had missed.

"The Headmaster mentioned you looked tired. Would you like to go take a nap?" Snape's lip curled as he talked down to Harry and he scowled back trying to figure out what would be best. He was making no contribution to the conversation and he had the added incentive of trying out one of his thoughts on Draco. On the other hand, it gave Snape the satisfaction of thinking Harry was too immature to stay awake at an Order briefing. Although, if the other man had any idea what Harry wanted to do to the Potions Master's star pupil, he imagined the smirk would come right off.

"Maybe I'll just take a small break." Even as he said it, he was halfway out the door. Taking the steps two at a time, he slid into Draco's room and bolted the door before the blond on the bed could say a word. "Hi." He knew there was a goofy smile on his face, made all the more ridiculous as Draco raised an eyebrow at his sudden presence.

Glancing around the room, Harry could see it was still in nearly the same condition as when he left. The sheets hung off the bed, but looked as if someone had attempted to make the bed. Draco was nearly as flushed as he had left him, and the hint of red on his neck made Harry all the more eager to see him.

Draco had already crossed the room and was now walking him back to the bed like he had the night before. "Meeting done?" He asked casually. Before Harry could answer, he felt two hands on his chest push him back on the bed. Even as Draco climbed on top of him to straddle his hips, his expression never changed from mildly curious. His eyes, however, reflected the same desire that was etched across Harry's face.

He grunted as his back hit the bed. "I think Dumbledore knew what we were doing before I went downstairs. He let me leave early."

Draco made a small voice in the back of his throat as he unbuttoned Harry's shirt. "Lecherous old man." He paused as his face hovered just inches away from Harry's, "I'll have to thank him."

A scream pierced the air and Harry wrestled with the sheets to grab his wand on the dresser. His fingers fumbled against the surface until his mind became fully awake and he realized he hadn't put his wand there that evening. Actually, he had been rather busy last night…A blush crept across his face, but the sound of another scream took him out of his reverie. Twisting around, he knelt near Draco's head and watched as the blond thrashed and gripped the sheets. A look of pain and then fear spread across his face and he whimpered while Harry looked on helplessly.

He had been haunted by nightmares of Voldemort but he had never seen anyone else suffer through their dreams like he did. For a few moments he watched in sick fascination, wondering if this was what he looked like. Did bead of sweat drip down his face to mingle with a few salty tears? Did he bite his lip, clench his fists, and flinch in fear? He couldn't drag his eyes away from the sight until Draco made a low keening noise and Harry snapped into action.

"Draco?" He whispered as he harshly shook the boy back and forth. "Draco!" He tried again. Gray eyes snapped open and Harry had to stop himself from jumping back in surprise. His hand reached out to touch the bare shoulder again, but his movement made the other man recoil from his touch. Slowly his hand lowered and he knelt until Draco's rapid breathing calmed down. "Are you okay?"

The gray eyes had lost their caged look, but still remained a bit weary. Harry was answered with a nod before Draco began to rustle the sheets and prepared to go back to bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He voice sounded unsure even to himself, but the sentiment was still strong.

Draco rolled over so his back was facing Harry. "No." He said quietly.

Harry continued to press. "I know what it's like."

"No you don't." The response was muffled in a pillow, but hardened by whatever the dream had brought up. Harry had a growing suspicion that something had happened down in the Ministry. Just thinking about the room would have given him nightmares. He had only been in there a short time, but it was enough to know that it was always cold, always dark and always hopeless. The cell doors were just bars that were coated in rust as the condensation from the ceiling trickled down in a small and ever-present stream. The doors did nothing to hide the piles of cloth that the veelas slept in, the corners of waste and filth that the sane set apart from their living area. Others who had lost a grip on reality made no effort to even move from the mess, they seemed to just lie in it; Harry could smell it and see it on the captives he helped release.

The setting he had witnessed probably wasn't as horrible as what they had endured. He could only imagine what several dozen guards had thought was their due for watching over the veelas. There was no doubt that they saw the veelas as little more than sexual servents and had no problem taking what they had wanted. That was the part that Harry had feared the most. His body shivered in disgust at the idea that someone had touched Draco. Was there a guard who ran grubby fingers up white porcelain sides, plundered Draco's sweet mouth with a slimy tongue, and treated him with something other than the passion or playful affection that Draco deserved to be touched with?

There was no way to know for sure, but there was a strong indication if Draco's actions with the guard the first night were anything to go by. Sighing, he slipped back under the sheets that had gone cool from his missing body. His head twisted to look at Draco's shoulder and back that were too tense to be part of a sleeping body.

He rose up a bit and placed his lips on Draco's right shoulder. He held his mouth there for a moment and when the blond made no movement, Harry returned to his side of the bed. "Do you want me to leave?" No sound came from Draco and he peeled the covers aside to leave and gather his clothes. This was not what he had expected on the night he lost his virginity.

A strong arm shot out and grabbed Harry's, causing the Gryffindor to look over. Draco gazed at him with pleading eyes, but didn't speak. When he did, his voice was strained. "Stay. If you want."

He nodded and climbed back in. Just as he was about to return to sleep, a chilled hand crept across his stomach. Looking down, he saw Draco move closer so that he was half on top of Harry. A fair head tucked itself under his chin and he felt steadying breaths brush across his chest. Looping his arms around the body, Harry felt the tenseness drain out of Draco and he smiled. The warmth that had vanished with a chilled scream was finally returned to the bed.

Around six in the morning, Harry crept downstairs in a loose fitting pair of pajama bottoms. The floor froze his feet and Harry tip-toed into the kitchen and started a fire in the grate. It was his turn to cook again and if Ron didn't get his food in the morning, he would hunt Harry down until he did. Personally, Harry didn't think it was such a great idea to have Ron find him snuggled up to Draco first thing in the morning.

He filled the tea kettle with water, which sloshed a bit as another pair of feet padding downstairs startled him. He recognized the pattern of the footsteps as Draco's and turned just in time to see a fully dressed wizard enter the room and sit at the table. Taking a good look at his outfit, Harry could see that Draco had overcompensated on a neat appearance to cover up the haggard look that a restless sleep brought. The kettle was now safely on the stove and Harry left it to kneel down next to Draco's chair. The blond barely lifted his head and allowed Harry to brush a few strands of hair aside to look at his tired face. Harry's thumbs brushed over high cheekbones in a fleeting touch and smiled as Draco leaned in to his touch.

Draco hadn't been haunted with dreams for the rest of the night, but he obviously hadn't slept well. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin had lost the glow it normally carried and just looked more sickly than beautiful. "Want some tea?" Harry said after a moment as he rose and pulled off the whistling kettle. Not waiting for an answer, he slid a cup over and then pulled the milk out of the refrigerator and the sugar from the counter to put on the table. Then, he cut up lemon slices and put them in a small bowl and placed those on the table as well.

Draco raised an eyebrow that told Harry that he knew exactly what the other boy was doing. Harry shrugged and pulled out a skillet; he supposed that after last night, it wasn't too strange to feel the need to provide and care for Draco, regardless of what the other man might think. He turned back to the breakfast he was supposed to be making and pulled out all of the necessary ingredients for pancakes.

"What are you doing?" A voice suddenly said from behind him. Harry looked back at Draco who was peering over his tea cup and over Harry's back.

"Making pancakes." He said as he began stirring and missed Draco's furrowed brow.

"Can't you use magic?"

"You can, but it just doesn't taste right. Too bland, I suppose." He shrugged and continued stirring. After a few minutes the pancakes were already cooking on the stove and he turned to look at Draco who was regarding the whole thing with undisguised curiosity. Harry gave him a small grin and turned the ones in the skillet over until they were a golden color. He slid three small ones out onto the plate and then, giving Draco a sly look, he flipped the last one in the air with the skilled and caught it in the pan before sliding it on the dish. While at the Dursleys, Harry had perfected that move while his aunt was too busy spying on the neighbors to care. He saw the challenge in Draco's eyes and waited patiently as Draco debated cooking in the muggle way.

Ten minutes later, Draco had switched places with Harry and was now gripping the skillet with unsure hands. "And I just flip it, right?" He looked back at Harry who smiled. It was refreshing to see Draco so open and willing. Normally he just adopted an attitude of overconfidence, which irked Harry now and then. It wasn't much, just a cooking lesson, and Harry knew that Draco wouldn't be dropping his guard regardless of having sex the night before. Yet, it was encouraging to see the change. Turning back to Draco he watched as the pancake went a few inches, but not as high as Harry's.

"Not bad." He commented from the other burner as he prepared some sausage for Ron who always insisted on some type of meat for breakfast. Placing a warming charm over the plate, he slid the food on and went back to observe Draco. "Little more flick of the wrist."

"Sounds a bit like charms class." Draco muttered as a small pink tongue peaked out in concentration. The pancake flew a bit higher, but Draco had to struggle to catch it.

Harry smiled. "It takes some practice. I used to do this all the time." He began as he set the table. "My cousin, Dudley, could eat more than the four of us combined. And he had to have pancakes every Saturday."

Draco shook his head. "Sounds like a brat." Harry hid his smile; he had, for a while, compared his cousin to his new lover on several occasions.

"Well, Aunt Petunia made me cook them all. She was a horrible cook and just couldn't stand to look like a fool so she made me do it." He put the last plate down and spelled the dishes in the sink. They pulled everything to the center of the table and ate in silence as Hermione breezed through the kitchen with a book already in hand. Ron followed ten minutes later with big lumbering foot falls as he staggered into the room. As the redhead shoved food into his mouth, seemingly without tasting any of it, Draco rolled his eyes and shared a glance with Harry. Something inside Harry uncoiled and, as warmth settled into his stomach, he knew that things would be okay between him and Draco. With Ron and Hermione dating, he had felt like a third wheel for so long. It was nice to finally feel like he belonged.

Another two weeks had passed and Harry was surprised to find that his birthday was right around the corner. It was now around eight in the evening and all of the guests had already left his surprise party that Mrs. Weasley, with help from the twins, had arranged. The color changing streamers developed by Fred and George, as they claimed boastfully, were still active although were now muted and calm instead of the blinding flashes they had been earlier. An empty plate was at his side with the remains of Mrs. Weasley's cake on it, and as he rested on the couch, he felt full and content.

His seventeenth birthday, the day he would be seen legally as an adult in the wizarding world, wouldn't actually begin until midnight, but, as George had said with a wink, it wouldn't have been a surprise if they had celebrated it on the correct day.

Ron was on the floor against Hermione's legs while she sat on the couch with Harry. He had spent the whole day with them and for a while it had been like in past years where there were no complications, no attachments, no hidden relationship or anything else between them. Yet as they had eaten dinner, Harry caught his two best friends exchanging loving looks over the table and he knew that he was too old to pretend that he was still eleven. Things were changing; the relationships were shifting between him and his friends. Part of him was saddened by the idea of growing up, but the other part was just as excited as something developed between him and Draco.

Draco. Harry sighed and turned his head until it rested on Hermione's shoulder. She gave him a smile and petted his head in a comforting gesture that Harry had been looking for. The whole situation with his…lover, for lack of a better word, was complicated and he needed reassurance, if only from a good friend. It was always two steps forward, one step back; if he got close to Draco, if he hit on a wound too fresh, the other boy wouldn't fail to remind him that he was nothing more than a willing body for sex. Harry wasn't ready to pledge marriage to him or anything, but there was no way to touch on the subject of having an actual relationship without Draco clamming up again.

He was currently outside, away from the Gryffindor trio. Besides running into him upstairs earlier that day, Harry hadn't seen Draco since he had woken up this morning. Yet as he sat with his two friends, he wanted a different sort of companionship than the one they offered. Excusing himself, he slipped into the garden and disappeared behind a wall of plants.

It was a cool night, perfect for just wandering the gardens. Normally in the evenings, Draco could be found out here looking for some freedom from the house he was confined to. If he wanted to be found, he would be in the same spot that he had found Harry at earlier in the month; if not, Harry could wander the gardens for hours and never find him. A branch snapped under his foot as he turned the corner to their tiny alcove, alerting Draco to his presence.

The blond was lounging on the small bench with one leg bent and hanging over the edge and one supporting himself on the ground. His hands held his weight from behind his back and his head was turned up to catch the fading light of the day. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he was content to look at the sight of his lover for a few moments more.

While he was undoubtedly beautiful, there was something very sad written across his face. It was almost like he had spent years hoping for something but came to the painful realization that it wasn't meant to be. His eyes were a mellow gray, not the molten silver that they were when he was normally with Harry and his posture that once seemed to be showcasing the ethereal presence of Draco now looked defeated and tired.

Harry stepped closer to Draco and watched a false smile spread over his face. Thin pink lips quivered minutely and Harry reached out a finger to trace them gently. Like he always did, Draco leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked as Draco moved his legs for him to straddle the stone bench.

The eyes remained closed and Harry understood why; while the gray eyes were undeniably his greatest feature, they revealed everything he was thinking. The Slytherin knew this of course and was very careful to keep them closed around Harry.

His voice came out thick and short as if he was holding something in. "I thought…" He trailed off and then rethought his words. "It's nothing."

Harry's finger left his lips and threaded through his hair as Draco came closer. Their legs tangled in each other as a fair head rested on his shoulder. "Was it important?" Harry whispered and rested his head on the one beneath it.

The answer didn't come right away, and from that unintentional pause, Harry knew that Draco's 'no' was a lie. Yet, while he may have denied Harry through his words, something in Draco craved physical contact. Two timid arms wrapped around his waist and held Harry close to him. Draco rarely confided in him and rarely sought him for comfort; whatever had happened must have been extremely significant. In return for Draco's vulnerability, Harry threaded is arms around his small waist and held him as tight as he could as he whispered small things to him.

"I'm sorry Draco." The grip around him tightened even more, but Draco didn't make any other movements. They sat like that for a few more minutes, and just when Harry thought he could breathe in the spicy smell of Draco's neck for the rest of the evening, the warmth left his body. He looked up and then felt himself being pushed back against the bench.

Harry went willingly, but confusion laced his thoughts. There was something very off about the touch; it was mechanical and Draco may have very well been touching a flobberworm for all the interest he was showing in Harry. In an attempt to rectify, this Harry threaded his arms around his neck and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, but found himself denied. His back was pressed into the cold stone and every move he made to touch the blond hair, or to stoke his cheek or even try to participate in their prelude to sex was batted away. The hands on his chest turned more forceful and Harry twisted as his pants were in the process of being pulled off. It didn't seem to stop him and instead served almost as an encouragement.

Cold hands were now tugging at his shirt. Harry breathed heavily and kept a solitary tear from getting past his eyes. Panic was filling him because Draco wasn't supposed to be touching him like this, he wouldn't take Harry against his will. He wouldn't. Harry knew this for a fact, but it didn't stop the fear from gripping his chest. The Draco he knew wouldn't, but the man on top of him was a stranger. With a last burst of strength, he shoved the chest in front of him.

"Stop!" Harry gasped as he scrambled off the bench and fixed his clothing. Draco was breathing hard and staring at his hands with blank eyes. He caught a glimpse of disgust and hatred flash through gray eyes that he had loved so much before the very presence of Draco retreated behind his emotionless mask.

Harry wasn't an idiot, nor was he as naïve as Draco sometimes pretended he was. He knew the horrors of war, saw them through Voldemort's eyes, had felt the burn of a foreign hatred seep through his veins. What he saw with Draco was a tortured prisoner trying to appease a master while still grasping for control.

Now more than ever, Harry was convinced that something truly horrific had occurred in the Ministry. It wasn't that he had believed it to be pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, but something in Draco was bringing out the emotionless side, making the Draco that he had come to know hide behind its armor.

As he looked at the ground and caught his breath, a black cloak swirled at his ankles as the owner ducked behind a wall of grass and headed back to the house. Harry fell to the ground and finally allowed the panic to stop gripping him and the color to return to his face.

Draco had said that no one had touched him in the Ministry. While it was possible it was a lie, the young wizard had also been in pain and was both mentally and physically exhausted. If anyone's ability to lie in a time of distress would have remained uncompromised, it was definitely a Malfoy's, although Harry sensed that there was truth in his statement. It was a truth that had to be expressed to show the world that he had survived.

Survived what was the question, however. Sexual assault was most likely the case. Draco wouldn't have counted that as someone touching him, probably delegating only rape into that category. In a way, it did make some sort of sense, Harry thought as he picked at a piece of grass. He, in a very strange way, had been trying to give Harry what he wanted. Their relationship was built around sex, although not based entirely on it. It was a small jump in Draco's mind to assume that he, Harry, had only been with him for the sex.

Undeniably, the sex had been one of the selling features of the relationship. For his first time, he couldn't have asked for a more open or passionate partner. With the exception of this last failed attempt, he and Draco had always been explosive in bed. Having no experience to base this assumption on, the look of wonder on Draco's face every time he reached completion told Harry that the connection they were getting was not a common occurrence.

So Draco had been trying to appease him through sex. It wasn't all that Harry wanted, but he could bet that it was a residual feeling from his time in the Ministry where Draco was only worth his beauty. That would explain the cruelty that came along with it, the forceful handling that made it feel more like a punishment than an act of…well, not love, but perhaps of desire. Sighing, he dusted off his legs and went back inside. Slipping up the stairs, he could hear Hermione giggling in contrast to Ron's low murmur and, not for the first time, wished he could have that innocent fumbling relationship that everyone should experience.

But, Harry thought bitterly, he and Draco hadn't been given those options. Knowing that, he passed his room and instead crawled into the massive guest bedroom that he, Ron and Hermione had given Draco. The blond was curled into a small ball, the tips of his blond hair barely visible. Pulling the blankets aside, he climbed into bed and curled himself around the body, feeling a jolt of surprise.

"Harry, I-" He began, but Harry pressed a finger against his lip. He glanced down to see fingernails stained with tiny flecks of blood and crescent shaped cuts dotting Draco's upper arms from where he had clutched too hard. Draco was punishing himself for what had happened, but he didn't need to anymore.

"I'm not one of them." He didn't need to specify; Draco's eyes told him that the Gryffindor knew just who Draco was truly seeing in the garden. "And I don't want you to do what you feel like I need." He continued as his fingers toyed with the edge of a sheet. When the other man didn't say anything Harry blurted out, "I'm not using you for sex, Draco." With that, he rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut until he no longer felt questioning gray eyes on his back. A rustle of sheets sounded behind him and he knew Draco was finally going to bed as well.

Just as Harry was drifting off to sleep, a hoarse voice whispered, "That would've made it easier."

Harry awoke with a start, once again startled by something in Draco's room. The two had gone to bed and after a fitful hour of sleep, Harry had stripped the other man down to his boxers, did the same to himself and then allowed himself to be held against Draco's front. For once, Harry was relieved that he was going to sleep through the night instead of watching the clock until midnight. He fell asleep with a smile on his face as he imagined spending a lazy morning in bed with Draco before finishing off the leftovers from his party and spending time with his two best friends. Hopefully Draco would do what he normally did and pretend that the previous night had never happened; it was what Harry had been planning to do. A misunderstanding and a lot of confusion was not going to spoil his day. It was to be a perfect birthday.

Or so he thought until a large weight settled on his chest, restricting his air supply. His hands automatically went to the strong thighs that had him pinned down. They were tense and sturdy; it appeared Draco wasn't moving. Before he glanced up at his face, Harry looked at the clock to see that it was officially three minutes into his birthday. Well, it appeared that his wish came true because there was no anger or callousness in his touch, which made Harry profoundly relieved. Although, what brought on this change, he didn't know but wasn't about to throw him off.

"Draco, what-?" The question died on his lips as he took in the blond above him. While Draco had been beautiful before, he was now positively glowing with silver light that dazzled Harry until he felt the need to look away. Only instead of turning his head, he found his eyes were glued to Draco's form. Gray eyes were now luminescent in the darkened room, but seemed almost crazed, but that didn't stop the lust from growing in Harry, which was only strengthened by the warm body above him.

His hands slid up each thigh, fluttering past the sensitive inner areas to roughly grab his hips and haul the blond back until he was no longer on his stomach, but resting on his groin. A needy moan escaped Draco's mouth as he felt Harry's clothed erection bump against his ass. The air felt supercharged and Harry couldn't control himself from rocking back and forth, riding out waves of pleasure with Draco. Rivulets of sweat dripped down the blonde's body and Harry sat up to lick the salty skin of one of his pectorals before focusing a nipple. The movement had thrown Draco further back unto Harry's hips and he cried out in lust as he rutted against Harry with wild abandon.

If either had been thinking clearly, they would have latched onto the idea that something was wrong. It was different than their other encounters and it hadn't been started by an act of will, but a basic instinct that continued to drive them.

Draco continued to grind his hips down against Harry's while he held the dark head to his chest. Harry laved at the small nub with his tongue before biting down, hard, to pull a strangled scream from Draco, who only rocked harder.

"Draco." Harry gasped out as he pulled away from Draco's chest to lick a protruding collar bone. As if ice water had been doused on him, the Slytherin scrambled off his lap. He didn't pay any attention to Harry calling his name, but just jumped off the bed and began pacing.

"Draco, please." Harry pleaded. In his lust filled brain, he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out what was wrong or if he just wanted Draco back in bed. His voice only served, however, to snap him out of his muttering and whirl around to look at Harry with angry eyes.

"I can't have you anymore." Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach and looking at Draco, the words had had the same effect. The blond was doubled over trying to breathe. "No." He whispered quietly, over and over again. " No, no, no, no, NO!" He screamed and then collapsed to the ground. Rushing over, Harry felt all desire fall away from him as he approached the prone body.

"Draco?" He didn't really expect an answer.

A/N: End of chapter three. Chapter four is only partially done, but I'll try to have it done as soon as possible. I'll be moving in about a week so there will be less time to update, but like I said before, I'll do what I can. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Finally! Yes, I know I said I'd try to update, but things have been pretty hectic. This was one of the first times I had a moment to myself to really become committed to the story and I only now just finished the middle of the forth chapter, which for some strange reason wasn't done yet. I haven't given up, but if this is the way updates are going, then expect a long delay. If all goes right, I'll keep writing and have something for Thanksgiving to repost again. I know that sucks, but it's the best I can do, I think. We'll just see how it goes.

Chapter 4

The hospital wing, Harry noted, was unusually silent. At midnight, the other patients were asleep, and he was left alone in his own thoughts as Pomfrey and the Malfoys poked and prodded at the still unconscious Draco. After he had collapsed, Harry had gathered him in his arms and traveled to Hogwarts. Dumbledore in his ever knowing ways was up and in a blue and green striped dressing gown with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy looking wide awake and disheveled from their unexpected awakening.

Snape was sitting next to him in full robes, seemingly content to sit in silence while he took in the scene in front of him. He was called for any potion assistance, but with no known cause, he was as useless as Harry. Dumbledore and McGonagall were on the other side of him, looking tense.

Harry sighed and stretched out his legs as his head leaned back on the chair. He regarded the ceiling with uninterested eyes and was again reminded that he knew so little of what it was like to sit in these chairs that his friends did at least twice a year. With the exception of Hermione in second year, Harry had never known anyone in the hospital for something more serious than a miscast spell. Yet even with his petrified best friend, he at least had Ron and the threat of the basilisk to keep his mind busy. Now he had nothing to distract him from remembering the frightening encounter with Draco he had had only an hour ago.

It had perhaps been the strangest night that Harry had ever experienced with Draco, which was saying a lot. In their nightly encounters in London, he was constantly finding himself in strange situations with an array of colorful people. But this one definitely took the cake. It had begun with Harry throwing Draco off him, but ended in just the opposite. This was strictly why he avoided relationships, he thought to himself. It was all just too confusing.

He hadn't grown up with a very…appealing look at marriage from his relatives, but even exposure to Ron and Hermione's relationship, and the recounting of Ginny's failed romances made dating someone seem like a constant headache over misunderstandings. Anniversaries to remember, dates to take them on, treading the fine line of really good friend and girlfriend like he had with Ginny, well, it just made the whole thing seem like he was running and getting nowhere.

What he and Draco had was vastly different. It was comprised of mostly no strings attached sex with conversation to make up the remainder, which of course led to an argument, which then led to angry sex. And that was fun, easy. He was seventeen, he didn't want to settle down or have a long term relationship, at least not until Voldemort was finally disposed of. Draco had understood that; they were both teenage boys after all and there was nothing more natural to either of them than getting your needs met. Of course, Harry wasn't sure what those needs actually were when they first started hanging around each other, but now that he knew it just seemed logical to have an arrangement with the other man.

Sex had been expected, arguing had been guaranteed, conversation was always iffy, but he knew that going in. What he hadn't known was how hard it would be to sit here and actually worry about Draco, like he cared.

He sat up slowly, unaware that all of the teachers' eyes were on him. His mouth opened and closed as his mind latched onto an idea that had floated through his head.

He actually cared. Harry Potter cared for his rival, a Slytherin git. It just seemed so wrong to think, but felt right when he did.

And now he was sitting here, waiting for his…whatever Draco was to wake up from his panic induced faint. Worst of all, whatever he felt was bound to be disregarded by Draco who probably thought Harry was nothing more than a willing body to make his imprisonment more enjoyable.

The thought made his stomach clench and he felt worse than he had before. Trying not to think, he cleared his mind like Snape had taught him for Occulemency. It almost worked, but flashes of blond hair, pale skin and gray eyes accosted his mind before he could stop them. He kicked at the ground with his shoes and jumped when a hand clasped over his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Pomfrey bustling over, leaving Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing over their son's bed.

"We've discovered the cause of Mr. Malfoy's aliment." She said firmly and her mouth held a small frown that she normally reserved for Quidditch accidents. It was obvious that whatever had happened to Draco was something she deemed unnecessary and foolish. Her eyes flicked from Dumbledore to Harry and softened a bit. "Why don't we send you off to bed, dear. It's getting late." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but found an invisible hand pushing him forward towards the door. There was just enough time to glance at the Malfoy family. Lucius graced him with a sardonic smile, making it clear who had ordered him from the room in the first place.

His shoe kicked the solid wall, which was incredibly stupid because now his foot hurt and he was no closer to finding out what had happened. If Lucius Malfoy was trying to keep him out, then there was little he could do about it. With a heavy step, he walked down the hall, unsure where he was going to go. A 'pop' sounded behind him and he found himself looking into the helpful face of Dobby.

"Harry Potter, sir!" He exclaimed and then marched him down the hall. "Professor Dumbledore has told Dobby to be sending Harry Potter to a room." Harry nodded and drowned out the excessive chatter. Something was wrong, something so wrong that the elder Malfoy didn't want him to hear, Harry reasoned. The Malfoys were private, but he knew it had to be more serious than over-exhaustion or else Pomfrey wouldn't have been frowning and he wouldn't have been out here.

Everything had seemed fine with Draco. He was eating, sleeping, and acting perfectly normal. There wasn't any indication that something was wrong with him until he had started screaming this morning.

Wouldn't it be just his luck if Draco was subjected to his birthday curse, Harry thought with a laugh. Things always seemed to be happening on his birthday.

The thought of him turning seventeen being a significant contribution to the collapse was unlikely, leaving Harry stumped. He paused and thought. If there was one thing that helped him when he was utterly clueless, it was Hermione. Knowing what he had to do, he allowed Dobby to lead him to his room before he snuck up to the Owlery and sent a letter off.

Harry was waiting by the door to the Great Hall six hours after he had dozed off in his room. It was nearly seven in the morning, but he was wide awake and anxiously watching for the first sign of movement. The door creaked and a freckled hand held it open while the petit Hermione ducked underneath it with a bundle in her hands.

"Harry!" She said breathlessly and thrust the pile of clothes in his hand with a small smile. "We got your letter. What's going on?" He was very careful not to write anything in the letter that might alarm either of his friends, and it was evident that he hadn't or else Hermione would be in full research mode and Ron would be ready to punch something. Now they looked curios, albeit a bit tired.

"Did you get what I asked for?" He asked and sifted through the cloth in his hands, sidestepping her question.

She frowned and nodded. "Of course. Now what-" Six veelas entered the room for an early breakfast, effectively cutting her off.

"Not here." He muttered and steered them to his private room.

They were all sitting comfortably on his bed with Ron and Harry up against the headboard and Hermione sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed. He had already showered and changed with the clothes Hermione had brought and now had his invisibility cloak and map spread out before him.

"So what's going on? You never wake up this early; we barely even acknowledge that this time exists during school!" Ron commented as he gently poked Hermione in the knee with his foot, earning a blush and a flustered slap from his girlfriend.

"I haven't been exactly honest with you this summer. There are things-fuck!" He glanced at the map to see two dots moving. "And I'll tell you what they are when I get back." He ran out of the room with his invisibility cloak, leaving his two best friends to wonder what happened. The raven-haired boy disappeared under the cloak and scuttled along the walls until his prey was in sight.

Stalking a veela, Harry discovered, was next to impossible. He had followed Draco's parents up to the hospital wing, but they moved swiftly and silently and were constantly lost in a sea of fair heads that floated through the halls. They came to a stop right by Draco's bed whose occupant seemed to be awake as well. What was it with veelas being early risers? Harry certainly hadn't picked up on this when they were sharing a bed.

He slid himself under an adjacent bed, making sure he was covered by the cloak. Fishing around in his pocket produced an Extendable Ear, another Weasley invention smuggled in by Hermione and Ron. It slipped around the curtain just as Lucius Malfoy pulled them to give his family a bit of privacy. They spoke in low tones, but Harry could hear them through the magically enhanced device.

"-Was incredibly stupid. Honestly, Draco, I haven't the slightest idea what you're so set about ruining your life." Lucius' figure was pacing; Harry could just make out the silhouette of his shape.

Draco's response was haughty and defensive. "Don't you mean your life?"

"Your life, my life…we are Malfoys. What's good for one of us is good for the family."

"That is such-"

Narcissa, in a calm and deceptively light voice, cut him off with a quiet, "Don't swear, Draco, dear. It doesn't suit."

"Unbelievable." The word was drawn out and Harry wiggled closer to listen. Whatever they were talking about was obviously a subject that had never been brought up. Draco was too upset and Lucius was too angry for it to be a revisited conversation. Narcissa didn't seem to have much of an opinion and was probably serving as a mediator, a job Harry didn't envy with the two men in her life. "This isn't even about me. It's all just a scam to bring some good to our name so you don't end up in Azkaban again."

"Watch your tongue." The voice was harsh; Draco must have hit a button by bringing up the wizard prison. The two people he had known who had been to Azkaban, Sirius and Hagrid, never commented, even when it was brought up. Sirius just gave a tight smile and left the room while the half-giant was brought to tears by the first syllable. For them, it was a painful reminder that they suffered while innocent; Harry suspected for Lucius it was the anger at being caught.

"Draco, we understand why you feel that way, but really, it's for the best." Narcissa said in her pleasant tone. Even eavesdropping on her, it seemed to Harry, gave no indication of her character. It was like she just existed to fill a void. "Denying your mate is-"

"Stupid, irresponsible, foolish. You're squabbling away our chance!" Lucius' voice cut over his wife's. She sighed and he heard the rustle of cloth as if she was shifting in her chair.

Lucius continued to talk, but Harry drowned him out. Mate? It was suddenly all clicking. Draco had to be with someone else, and he knew that last night.

"_I can't have you anymore."_

At the time, Harry had found it ridiculous; Draco could have him anytime he wanted and he had on several occasions in different parts of the house and Muggle London. Now it all made sense. He was being given up so Draco could be with the person or veela he had selected. Part of him wanted to cry at the unfairness that his first lover, his first romance, was being ended so abruptly and so painfully. His stomach churned and his eyes darkened as he thought of the person his now ex-lover might have chosen.

She was probably a pureblood, beautiful and extremely wealthy. No doubt that she had all the knowledge that a perfect trophy wife should know as well as impeccable manners that had been drilled into her early on. With Draco being a veela, Harry knew there was some sexual compatibility between her and Draco, but Harry hoped against anything that she would be lousy in bed. She'd be a frigid woman that Draco would only go to so he could have several heirs.

Even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true. Lucius knew who she was. She had to be reputable or else he wouldn't be doing it to boost his family's standing. With every witch in the world, he was lost at who it would be. Sighing, he squashed his feelings and leaned closer to listen.

"-Make a good mate. Good bloodlines, good status, very powerful. Given our current circumstances, we couldn't have asked for a better mate."

"I won't do it. You can't make me."

"Your maturity is really showing and don't forget that I can make you. You'll do this or I'll disown you." Lucius said with a sniff.

Harry could just imagine the shocked look on Draco's face, but he seemed to recover because he shot back, "How? The Ministry froze your assets."

"Draco why don't you tell us why you're so set against this?" Narcissa asked gently and immediately Draco's voice turned softer.

"I know you think I'm being ridiculous, but I have thought about it. There are lots of reasons why I shouldn't be with him."

Harry's jaw fell open. What the hell? What did he mean by him? Draco's mate was a guy? All three questions ran through his head, and, in his confusion, he nearly missed the rest of the conversation.

Lucius' voice drifted through the curtains as he responded with a bored drawl. "Such as?"

"If he dies, I die. He's right up there on the execution list and I can't put myself in that danger. You always said a Malfoy must do whatever possible to survive." Harry snorted; that did sound a lot like Lucius, which would explain the lack of hostility towards Dumbledore and the sudden shift of allegiance.

"Yes, but I also said that our happiness is above all others."

Narcissa picked up. "He's right, Draco. You won't be happy with anyone else. Mates are chosen because they are a perfect companion. Now, surely, that can't be your only reason?"

"I'm too young to mate for all eternity."

"Rubbish! Why, when I was your age, I was already planning my wedding. Even if you weren't a veela, you'd have an arranged marriage and you'd be in the same situation. Would you like to try again?"

There was a pause; either Draco was thinking of his next excuse or he was hesitating whether or not to mention it.

Narcissa seemed to think it was the latter and once again encouraged him to reveal his reasoning.

"There are two reasons." Draco finally said and if Harry could lean any closer, he would. As it was, he was barely under the bed and his cloak was in danger of slipping to the floor. "I don't want him to feel like he has to be with me. It shouldn't be a burden, so I want him to decide before I reveal this."

There was another long pause before Lucius broke the silence. "Sentimentality from a Slytherin? I knew this would happen when you started sleeping with a Gryffindor. They contaminate the mind!" For the second time, Harry's jaw dropped. Lucius knew about him and Draco. It was extremely disturbing and Harry had to wonder what else the elder Malfoy was filing away in his mind.

"Really, Lucius. I think it's…nice." Her tone didn't suggest that she thought it was nice. In fact, it seemed to be almost a hindrance, but too neutral to say it. "However, the bond is never a burden. It's a gift. Anybody would be happy to share this with you. Who wouldn't want you for a mate?"

Harry privately agreed and waited for the last response. Who knew that Draco would be so concerned about his mate's happiness? The one time that he finally dropped his arrogant state and it had nothing to do with Harry. The world just seemed cruel.

"My other reason is…when we were down in the Ministry…" Here Draco took a deep breath and the tap of Lucius' shoes against the floor suddenly ceased, "When we were in the Ministry, you both made sure that I wasn't touched." Harry breathed in a shaking breath; the Malfoys had let themselves get raped to spare their son. Whatever his feelings for them in the past, he now felt a tiny bit of compassion for them. They had protected Draco for him, and to Harry, that meant more than nearly anything in the world.

"Draco," Narcissa began to say, but was cut off.

"If he has to go through that for me, because I couldn't react fast enough…I can't let that happen." The last words were spoken with a heavy sadness that Harry felt sink into his skin, chilling him to the bone. His body felt numb and he remained motionless with wide eyes and sharp breaths. Slowly, he crawled away and left the Malfoy family to finish their private discussion.

Outside the infirmary was a large suit of armor with a sufficient crawl space that allowed Harry to duck in-between the stone and shaped metal. His invisibility cloak flowed down his arms and concealed him once more. He curled his knees up to his chest and just sat while feeling his heart break. This was it then; Draco was officially gone from his life. His words in the hospital wing made it clear to Harry that the love he felt for his mate was unending. There was no chance in getting him back.

Perhaps some part of him had realized this, but hearing Draco speak about his mate just made it more real. But, a small part of him reasoned, if this is what will make him happy, then I need to give him out. Two tears were squeezed from his eyes; he drew in a ragged breath and prepared to leave when the sharp click of heels and soft padding of footsteps reached his ears.

"Lucius." Narcissa began quietly. "If he doesn't want to bond…"

The older Malfoy paused as he passed into Harry's line of vision and he could just see a grin spread across his face. "If he doesn't, we'll take matters into own hands. He'll bond with Harry Potter whether he wants to or not." The clicking of footsteps started up again, but Harry was too elated to realize.

He was the mate. Him. Draco loved him, or at least it sounded like he did. Lucius and Narcissa wanted him to be their son's mate. There relationship wasn't over.

His mind couldn't wrap around the idea but already his body knew because his heart jumped, his cheeks flushed and warmth coiled in his stomach. Such was his happiness that he didn't hear the heels pause around the corner.

"He's a fool if he thinks he can outsmart a Slytherin." Lucius commented as he peered around the corner before his wife grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"But he's Draco's fool and he loves him." She said tenderly as they locked eyes. Lucius' face became less stony as he gazed on his bride who hadn't changed a day since they married. His grey eyes lit up and he kissed her softly on the forehead, her eyes closing in pleasure at the small action. "Let's leave them alone." She whispered and they linked arms and walked back to their room.

Harry waited until Draco had strolled out of the hospital wing before attacking him. It had been an hour since he had spied on the Malfoy family and he had spent it huddled behind a suit of armor that stood guard over the entrance to the infirmary.

Draco yelped, but Harry had anticipated it and threw a hand over his mouth. It was impossible to be sleeping with a person and not be able to predict what he would do in certain situations; his lover had a tendency to yelp when he was startled. He dragged the unwilling body into their transfiguration room and locked the door while Draco glared at him.

"Must you manhandle me?" A hand reached up to wipe his mouth to remove any traces of Harry. The Gryffindor just smiled at the action; Draco always had to be so dramatic about everything.

"Must you be so difficult?"

"Are you just going to answer my question with another question?"

Harry paused as he thought up his next response, knowing that if he chose correctly, he could get Draco loose his calm façade. "Would it bother you if I did?"

Once again, as predicted, hands went up in the air in exasperation accompanied with a strangled scream. "Why am I here, Potter?"

Harry suddenly grew serious. His green eyes hardened and none of the mirth that was there earlier rested in their dark depths. "You weren't going to tell me." His voice was hard and accusing as he could see the barely repressed flinch of Draco's shoulders. It served him right, Harry thought viciously, if he thought he could keep something like this to himself.

"I don't know what you're-" He broke off as he caught Harry's stare and broke eye contact. Harry could see the truth behind his words and his eyes, just like he always had this summer. "It won't affect you."

"Of course it will! We're mates, Draco. How does that not affect me?"

"The bond," Draco began slowly, "Will affect mostly me. You probably won't feel any of the stirrings of it. You won't be burdened with it."

Harry's mouth fell open. Was their bond a burden? It was anything but to Harry. "Did you ever think that maybe I wanted it? That it wasn't the problem you make it out to be?"

Draco's head remained downward and he shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment. "Did you ever think I didn't want it?" His eyes shifted back up with a mask over them that concealed every stray emotion. For a moment, they stood still, Harry in shock over what he had said and Draco regarding his mate for his reaction. When it seemed that he wasn't going to counter his attack, Draco brushed past him and tried to pull open the door.

He whirled around to face Harry who had been pulled out of his shock and now had a hand forward from a wandless locking charm. Draco still didn't have his wand back from the Ministry and realized the only way out was to listen to what Harry had to say.

Instead of some long rambling speech about how they should be together, which was what Draco had expected, he found himself thrown against the door. His cheek was pressed to the grainy surface, which rubbed painfully as Harry's body held him in place behind him. Hands brought his hands behind his back and the doorknob was pressed into his stomach, yet all of this was ignored as his veela half took in the warm body of his mate that was pressed tightly against him. Unable to stop himself, a gasp escaped his lips and the hips behind him rocked forward.

Draco's eyes flew open at the feeling of an erection firmly held against his backside and at the knowledge that Harry was getting off on this rough treatment. However, Draco couldn't deny that with the heat of Harry against his back and a hot breath tickling his neck, the situation was very arousing. He made very sure not to shift back to encourage it; no matter how right it felt, he was firm in his decision that he was not going to complete the bond with Harry.

"Listen, Draco," The last part came out a hiss and gray eyes fell shut again against his will, "I'm not the lovesick fool you think I am. I'm not weak and I won't mope around while you call the shots." A whimper escaped his throat and Draco hoped against anything that it wasn't his. "I care about you, a lot, and I wouldn't just tumble into bed with you for a quick fuck." Here he felt his pants being unbuckled and instead of protesting or stopping wandering hands, he threw his head back against Harry's shoulder and bit his lip.

"Then what do you want?" He bit out the sentence as a hand encircled the base of his cock and started to move in achingly slow strokes. A tongue tasted a drop of sweat at his temple and Draco couldn't stop his hips from flexing forward. Harry knew how to play his body, to manipulate it to get what he wanted. If he wanted answers, then Draco knew he was in no state to deny his mate anything. It had nearly killed him earlier to reject him, but he knew he had to.

"Why are you doing this? Why don't you want to complete the bond?" The hand stilled and Draco squirmed a bit.

"Harry, please." He begged, but the hand only tightened around him in a warning. "I-I…"

The voice hissed in his ear again and Harry's hand on him became increasingly tight. "Say it!"

"I don't want to need you!" He practically cried and then whimpered in relief as the hand began to stroke him again. His body was twisting in the iron grip, and he wasn't sure if he was eager for completion or desperate to escape the sure hands of his mate.

"Why can't you need me? Does it have anything to do with the Ministry?"

Draco wasn't even paying attention now, just thrusting into the warm hand that was jerking him off in harsh strokes. "Harry…" He breathed.

"Answer me, Draco."

"Bad…things happen."

"For people who you need?"

"Yes." He hissed, from the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain.

The hand suddenly slowed. "I won't hurt you Draco, I promise. You can trust me."

Draco's eyes flew open again and he suddenly pushed Harry off him and tucked himself back into his pants. "Open the door, Potter." His voice was shaking and he hated it.

Harry got up off the ground where he had fallen. None of the possession that he had displayed moments earlier was left in his body; instead he approached Draco cautiously as the other man did up his clothing. "Draco?"

He reached out a hand to touch and had it smacked away by an irate blond. "Don't touch me, Potter. Open the bloody door." Knowing it was no use to keep him, the door swung open with a wave of his hand. The Slytherin sped out of the room, leaving a very confused to Harry to wonder what had happened.

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AN: End of chapter four! Read and review; it won't make me update faster, but it'll make me feel better. Thanks! 


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